Ours
by travln1
Summary: Sequel to "Mine". 5 years post "Mine" and "Wilson's Heart". Mia is now five years old, and just starting kindergarten. Wilson has an interesting new patient with a big secret. AU. Some Huddyness. Thanks to my betas chippers87 & wrytingtyme.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, here it is, the sequel to "Mine". House/Cuddy FRIENDSHIP. I make no claims that this is a Huddy fic...focus is on friendship this go around, and a big storyline for Wilson. There may be (okay, will likely be) some Huddy-ish moments, but friendship is really key. Thanks to my Beta, **chippers87**.

Chapter 1

"Please, Mommy?" Mia asked, excitedly.

"He has a case right now. I don't want you going up there."

"But Mommy, I made it just for him," Mia used her best puppy dog eyes, just like Uncle Jimmy taught her to do.

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "Ten minutes, that's it and then I want you back in my office."

Mia's eyes sparkled, "Okay, Mommy!"

Mia handed her backpack to Cuddy and made a beeline for the elevators, waving at several nurses on her way. She was a regular sight around the hospital and had been since she was healthy enough to attend the onsite daycare facility when she was just over a year old. Cuddy stood in the elevator bay and watched as Mia entered the car. When the doors closed, she phoned Wilson to let him know Mia was on her way up and Wilson hurried out to the elevator bay on the fourth floor and waited to greet her. Mia bolted out of the car, nearly crashing into Wilson. He smiled and picked her up, swinging her from side to side as she giggled, throwing her head back in glee.

"How was your first day of kindergarten?"

"It was okay. My teacher's nice," She paused to straighten her blue-plaid uniform jumper as Wilson put her back down, "But Bobby Prandle is a bully. He poked me in the chest."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, but he said my friend Emma's red hair looked like pasghetti sauce."

"Spaghetti," Wilson corrected her, smiling.

"Yeah, pasghetti. So I said he was an imbecilic buffoon who wouldn't know his cranium from his gluteus maximus."

Wilson inwardly laughed, imagining what Cuddy would say when she found out what new phrase House had taught her. "Mia, now you know that's not nice."

"He said her hair looked like pasghetti sauce!" She exclaimed.

"And what did your mom tell you about using that kind of language at school?"

Mia stared at her shoes, her voice not nearly as perky as before, "I'm not allowed to say things Uncle House teaches me when I'm at school."

"That's right." Wilson put his finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him, "I know you know what those words mean, but they aren't nice words when you say them that way."

"Okay, Uncle Jimmy."

"Tell me what else you did today."

"Miss. Roberts did calendar first, and then we sat at our seats. She passed out crayons and paper and told us to color because she had to talk to the two girls who were crying. Then she told us we'd learn the alphabet and how to read, except I already know how to read. And then we had recess, and after recess we had snack and that's when Bobby poked me. And then we did centers. I played a matching game with Susan. I won," she said sporting a huge grin.

"Of course you did," Wilson smiled.

"Then it was math time but all we did was count jelly beans. That was kinda boring until she said we could eat them. Then Miss. Roberts read Miss. Bindergarten Gets Ready For Kindergarten and then mommy picked me up."

"Did you have fun?"

"It was okay. It's funner here."

Wilson placed his hand on her head, "It'll get better. I'll talk to you later Mia Bo Bia, I've got an appointment in a few minutes."

"Bye, Uncle Jimmy!" She said, skipping towards House's office.

House stood at the whiteboard, marker in hand, frowning at his fellows when Mia walked in, "Uncle House! I made you something!"

"Not now, Smiagle."

"My name is not Smiagle."

"Go wait in my office," he said gruffly.

Mia defied his orders and marched herself over to one of the conference room chairs and plopped herself down, smiling at his fellows as she passed. She placed the picture she had painted on top of the table, expectedly.

House rolled his eyes and turned to his fellows, "Run a tox screen, a liver panel and get a better history. Let me know if you find anything." The fellows nodded, and filed out of the conference room, leaving Mia and House alone.

He looked down at her, still somewhat frowning, "What do you want Smiagle?"

"I'm not Smeagol. I'm not a hobbit who turned into that ugly _thing_ from that dumb movie. Stop calling me that," she said with her bottom lip sticking out.

"I have work to do, Smiagle." he teased.

A tear formed in the corner of her eye, "I just made this for you." Mia turned towards the door, "It was my first day of kindergarten today, you know."

House saw the tear and pretended not to notice, "You survived."

"It was boring," Mia said, walking over to the fridge, "I'm hungry."

"There's a yogurt in there for you." Mia took the yogurt out and House handed her a spoon from a high shelf, "How was it boring?"

She sat at the conference room table and hungrily dipped into the yogurt, "We counted jelly beans for math."

"How many did you count?"

"Ten."

House pursed his lips and nodded, "Do you have any homework?"

"Just a coloring sheet."

"It's the first day, Smiagle, maybe you'll get a truckload of homework tomorrow."

Mia smiled up at him, "You think so?"

House frowned, "Kids are supposed to hate homework."

She dismissed that thought, "Bobby poked me."

"What did you do to make a boy poke you?"

"I didn't do anything!" She said, growing angry.

"He must have had a reason to poke you." House said with a furrowed brow.

"It's not my fault." She said, crossing her arms in front of her.

House sighed and rolled his eyes, "Come here."

Mia sat rooted to the spot, equally as stubborn as he was, "No."

"Do you know how much you look like your mother right now? Come. Here."

"NO."

"Mia Rose, where did that boy poke you?"

"On my zipper," Mia pointed towards her chest. House had christened the scar that spanned the length of her chest, 'zipper' shortly after the surgery, because of its zipper-like appearance. The name stuck and though Mia had no memory of the life saving heart surgery she had as a baby, she knew she had to be careful when doing certain activities because of it.

"I'm calling your mother."

Mia shook her head, "No, she'll get mad at me."

"Why would she get mad at you, Mia?"

"Just because."

"That's not an answer." House waited for Mia to explain herself, but she kept her lips sealed tight. He picked up the phone, ready to dial Cuddy's extension when she appeared in the doorway.

"Mia Rose Cuddy!" Both House and Mia turned towards an obviously angry Cuddy, "I just had an unpleasant phone call from your teacher. What's this about calling a boy an imbecilic buffoon? And telling him he wouldn't know his cranium from his gluteus maximus?"

House chose to walk towards his office at that moment, "House! Don't move."

"But Mommy, he poked me first!"

"It doesn't matter if someone pokes you or yells at you or calls you names. What should you do if someone hurts you, Mia?"

Mia pursed her lips and sighed, "Tell the teacher, but Mommy, he poked me on my zipper."

Cuddy looked up at House, "This is your fault."

"What? So, I taught her another word for head."

"Don't act innocent with me, House," Cuddy said, as she picked up Mia and sat her on the conference room table.

"Lift up your shirt," she said. Mia pulled her shirt up and Cuddy examined her chest.

House moved closer to Mia and sat down in the chair, examining the contusion, "It's just a small bruise. She'll be fine."

"Did you tell the teacher he poked you?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell her he poked you on your zipper?"

"No."

"Mia, you know that if something happens to your zipper, you need to tell the teacher so they can call me."

"Cuddy, it's a bruise, she's not dying."

Cuddy turned fiercely towards House, and placed her finger on his chest, "You don't get to make these decisions. If I tell her to tell the teacher when something happens to her zipper, she needs to tell the teacher." House placed his hands up defensively and backed away.

"Mia, go into Uncle House's office until I call for you." Cuddy walked over to the mini freezer and pulled out the ice tray, "Here," she said, handing her a piece of ice wrapped in a paper towel, "Put this on the bruise, sweetie. I'll call you in just a minute."

"Okay, Mommy."

Once Mia was out of the room, Cuddy turned to House, "She told you that boy poked her, didn't she?" House nodded. "Why didn't you just examine her?"

"She's getting older Cuddy, I can't just lift her shirt up anymore. People walking by might, I don't know, think I'm a child molester."

"You know you have my permission to examine her zipper if something happens to her."

House nodded.

"I have to get back to my office."

"You do realize that she's not going to learn anything in that class, right?"

Cuddy glared at him, "It's a prestigious school, House."

"Doesn't matter how prestigious it is if she's not learning anything. She needs to be challenged."

"It's only been a day. Give it at least a week," Cuddy opened the door to House's office, "Come on, you can go down to daycare while I finish up for the day."

"But Mommy, I don't want to go to daycare!" Mia whined.

"But Mommy, Mia can stay here," House whined immediately afterwards.

"Honestly, it's like having two children," Cuddy said with a shake of her head, "Don't teach her any more medical terms," she said, looking at House.

"You," she said, looking Mia in the eye, "Stay here with Uncle House and keep the ice on your zipper. I'll pick you up in a little bit."

"And you," Cuddy said, turning her attention towards House, "Keep an eye on her and stay out of trouble."

Mia smiled broadly, "Bye, Mommy!"

"Bye, Mommy," House chimed in as Cuddy let the door close behind her.

Mia looked up at him, "Uncle House?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can I have my hug now?"

House feigned a look of annoyance, "Is anyone looking?"

Mia smiled as she looked outside to make sure the coast was clear, "Nope."

House rolled his eyes, as was their little game, and said, "Just this once." He opened his arms and she rushed into his embrace.

She looked up at him, "I don't like school."

"You have to go."

"It's boring."

"I know, I'm working on it."

"My teacher said she was going to teach us to read, but I already can. So what am I going to learn?"

"Well, look here," he lifted her up onto his good knee and pulled her long, straight black hair out of his face. He held up his hand, "Most people call these fingers, right?"

"Yep."

He ignored Cuddy's demands for no more medical terms and wiggled his fingers, "Well, the really smart people in the world, call them phalanges."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for the reviews! Much appreciated!! I know this story is a bit slow to start, but it will pick up soon. Thanks to my betas Chippers87 & Wrytingtyme!

Chapter 2

A week passed uneventfully. Cuddy finished up the last of her self assigned paperwork for the day; she was settling into her new routine, still not quite used to the idea that Mia was at a school ten minutes away; she missed the ability to visit the second floor staff daycare facility any time she liked. Mia's kindergarten was a half-day morning class, ending at lunch. Cuddy would pick her up, the two would share a quick lunch in her office or sometimes at a restaurant, if Cuddy had the time, and then Mia would spend the rest of Cuddy's work hours at the hospital's daycare.

Things seemed to be going well; Mia managed to keep certain Housian phrases out of her school day vocabulary, she played with the girls, kept her distance from that bully, Bobby Prandle, and she followed school rules. Unbeknowst to Cuddy, however, she tested the teacher's patience daily. Mia was a sweet child, content to learn and happy to socialize with the other students. However, Mia was bright and therein laid the problem. Mia was not a gifted child, not wise beyond her years, nor conceited with vast amounts of knowledge; Mia was, however, quick witted and often spoke honestly. Sometimes too honestly, like the time Mia explained to Emma Finkle that just because she couldn't read didn't mean that she was dumb. Or the way she would correct little Thomas each and every time he forgot the number nine when counting. She didn't do such things out of malice, quite the opposite; she genuinely thought she was helping her fellow kindergarteners. Miss. Roberts tried to understand where Mia was coming from, she really did, but the frequency of these incidences was on the rise and her patience was growing thin. And when Mia's forwardness and honesty became too much, Miss. Roberts pulled the last trick out of her bag. She would send Mia to the book nook to read.

Mia's love of books began very early. Cuddy purchased a book starting the day she was first hospitalized for her heart surgery. It gave Cuddy hope, hope that Mia would one day read the books herself; but it was her uncles who really spoiled Mia. It started off with Wilson purchasing a handful of books in an innocent, uncle-ish gesture; House turned it into a competition, stopping by the next time with twice as many books for Mia. Most were picture books, with a few early readers thrown in. And so it spiraled, each bringing a taller stack of books for holidays, any time Mia was sick with a cold, for her 'gotcha day' (the anniversary of the day she legally became Cuddy's daughter) and for Mia's birthday.

When she was just shy of her third birthday, Mia caught a particularly bad cold which developed into pneumonia, not uncommon for children with Tetralogy of Fallot repairs. She spent nearly a week in hospital with Cuddy fretting all the while, causing Mia to stress over the already stressful situation. As Cuddy grabbed her purse and headed towards the lobby to make the daily trip to pick up Mia from school, she thought back to the day Mia's bout with pneumonia had been at its worst.

"_Cuddy, she's resting. I'll sit with her. Go home and get some sleep." Wilson said, resting his hand on Cuddy's shoulder as she sat in the uncomfortable chair next to Mia's bedside._

"_I can't leave her, but thanks for offering."_

"_You're making her worse," House startled them both as he stood in the doorway, "Go home."_

_Cuddy eyed him, hurt by his words, "I'm her mother. I'm not making her worse."_

"_I suppose you haven't noticed that her heart races each time you bark orders at the nurses?"_

_She looked at him in shock. She hadn't noticed and she hated to admit it, but she had been rather pushy with the staff. Cuddy shook her head._

"_Go home. Wilson will sit with her."_

"_Well, so nice of you to offer Wilson's services, House," Cuddy said sarcastically._

"_I aim to please," he smirked._

_Wilson stood between the two and held his hands up in a stop-sign-like manner to quiet them both, "Her BP's up. Will you two stop?" They both looked at the monitor; neither spoke._

_Wilson walked over to a satchel on the bedside table and pulled out a small stack of new books. He smiled at House, raised his eyebrows and said, "Why don't you both go? Mia and I have some reading to do."_

_Not to be outdone by Mia's 'other' uncle, House showed up at her room pushing a hospital cart, laden with two oversized bins full of brand new books the very next evening. Cuddy stared at him in shock, unable to decide if she should be angry that he was acting like it was all a game or if she should be glad House was giving so much to the little girl who loved him unconditionally. _

_He motioned for her to leave the room, "Go on, out."_

"_I want to stay."_

"_What, don't you trust me with her?"_

_She shook her head, "I…no…you know that's not…"_

"_Mommy," Mia rasped, "Want Unca House."_

_Not fully understanding the connection between her daughter and the cranky doctor, Cuddy agreed and quietly left the two of them to the stack of books. _

_The following morning, Cuddy decided that it didn't matter whether or not House was playing games upon finding him stretched out alongside Mia in her hospital bed. Her head rested in the crook of his shoulder and he was fast asleep with a book splayed across his chest. She left the two of them to sleep, wondering if that man would ever cease to amaze her._

Cuddy looked at her pager, frowned, and made her way up to diagnostics. She burst through the door, "House, I have to pick up Mia. What do you want?"

House sat at his desk, stacking a pile of papers and stuffing them into a large manila folder. He looked up at her, "It's been a week."

Cuddy furrowed her brow, "Okay, you're going to have to give me a little hint here."

"Smiagle's been in school a week. Do you know what she did yesterday?"

"Give it some time."

"Here," he said, handing the envelope to her.

"What's this?"

"Six of the top schools in the greater New Jersey area. The first one is known for its top notch education, catering to those who work at an advanced level. Little orphan Annie needs to be challenged."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "She's at a very well respected school. She will be challenged, just give it time."

House shrugged, "How much time? Five, ten years?"

"House, you're not her parent." Cuddy looked at him and almost regretted her choice of words. Almost. "I chose Elizabeth Marshall Elementary based on the high test scores upon graduation; you chose Synergy. You didn't get your way. Stop pouting."

House stuck out his bottom lip, "Five dried beans."

"What?"

"Ask Smiagle."

"Will you stop calling her that?"

"Nope."

* * *

Mia sat quietly on the ride back to PPTH that afternoon. Cuddy kept glancing at her through the rear view mirror, wondering what was running through her daughter's mind.

"I need to ask you something, sweetie."

"What?"

"Uncle House told me to ask you about five dried beans. What was he talking about?"

Mia smiled broadly, "Oh. The counting beans."

"Counting beans?"

"Yep, this thing," Mia rummaged about her Dora backpack until she found what she was looking for. She held up a popsicle stick with five dried pinto beans glued to it.

"What is it?" Cuddy asked, confused.

"It's a counting stick. We had to count out five beans and glue them to the stick."

"And then what?"

Mia looked at the stick and then up at her mom, "We're supposed to count the beans once in a while."

"That's it?"

"Mmm-hmm."

* * *

Wilson greeted his newest patient in his office, preferring the initial meeting to be in a more relaxed setting before assaulting them with a barrage of tests in a clinical setting. He met the woman with sandy, peach colored fuzz covering her scalp and greeted her warmly, asking her to take a seat on the couch.

"So, Ms. Richter, I see you've been under the care of Dr. Mellit over at Charity?"

"Oh, please call me Shelby."

"Okay," Wilson said with a warm smile, "Shelby. Dr. Mellit and I went through med school together; I've known him a long time."

"Dr. Mellit referred me to you," she said, glancing out the window, and noting the taller man with a cane inside the office next door.

"Well, I've reviewed your charts and I see that you've been through two rounds of chemo previously; the first resulted in a slight decrease in the size of the tumor and the second yielded no change."

Shelby nodded.

"Well, we need to run through a variety of tests, new blood work, and a biopsy of the new tumor. And how long ago did you notice it?"

"Three days ago, during a routine self breast exam. It's under my left arm pit."

Wilson took in a deep breath, "I'm going to send you down to the nurse's station, just down the hall, and get you set up with some additional paperwork while I review a possible trial that you might be eligible for and I'll meet you in the exam room to conduct a full exam, okay?"

Shelby nodded, "Thank you," she paused, still watching House from across the way, "Dr. Wilson?"

"Yes?"

"Is that Dr. House?" Shelby pointed towards the opposite office.

Wilson nodded, furrowing his brow just a bit, "Yes, do you know him?"

She shook her head and smiled, "No, I just noticed the name on his door. Looks like he walks with a cane."

"Uh, yes. He does." Wilson turned his attention back to her file, "Okay, well I will see you down there in about half an hour."

"Thank you Dr. Wilson."

* * *

"But I didn't get to visit him yesterday either," Mia whined.

"Mia honey, he's very busy. He can't just drop what he's doing every time we get here."

"But…"

"No buts. Let me see what you have for homework and we…"

"I already did my homework."

Cuddy looked at Mia, smiling, "You're really enjoying school, aren't you? I'm so proud of you sweetie. Let me take a look at your homework."

"Okay." Mia handed a single worksheet to her mom, "And I'm supposed to read for fifteen minutes, too."

"Uncle Wilson's stopping by tonight to read with you."

Mia smiled broadly, "Yippee!"

Cuddy reviewed the worksheet, which consisted of tracing the letter "E" several times and coloring in the picture of an elephant. She pursed her lips at the simplicity of it and frowned at the notion that House was, once again, likely right.


	3. Chapter 3

Darn FF! I can't go in to edit for some reason today. Soooo…my line breaks will be the letter "M" today. Weird, I know. Once FF allows me to go in and edit, I'll put in proper line breaks. Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter 3

A few days later, Cuddy sat in her office reviewing a handful of files as Mia sat on the couch, finishing her lunch. Mia hastily stuffed the last of her sandwich into her mouth and mumbled, "Can I go see Uncle House now?"

"Not today, sweetie."

"Why not?"

"He's busy."

"He's always busy."

"Honey," Cuddy said, standing from her chair to join Mia on the couch, "He has important work to do."

"What about Uncle Jimmy?"

"He's busy too."

Mia frowned, "Can I stay here today? I'll be quiet."

"Do you have any homework?"

"Yes." Cuddy nodded in approval.

"Mommy?"

Cuddy sighed, "What is it Mia?"

"You haven't forgotten about tonight, have you?" Mia asked anxiously while fiddling with buttons on her dark navy cardigan.

Cuddy smiled, "I promise you, we're going to back-to-school night tonight."

Mia smiled, "What about Uncle House?"

"I don't know, Mia. I thought it would be nice if it was just the two of us."

Mia looked disappointed but didn't argue.

MMMMMMM

House leaned back on Wilson's couch and watched his friend stare blankly at the paperwork on the desk in front of him. He tapped his cane on the floor several times, realizing what day it was and readied himself to ask the question, "How old would she have been?"

Wilson closed his eyes, comforted by House's astute memory and uncanny ability to recall obscure dates, and simultaneously heartsick at the ghost of her memory. He and House avoided this topic and had since they'd reconciled so many years earlier. They had a silent agreement to move on, to forget and they had brushed the subject under the rug like the crumbs on the floor of a lazy housewife.

Wilson sighed deeply, remembering her hair. It was always her hair, well and maybe her legs too, that came to mind when he thought of Amber, "Thirty-four."

House nodded, "I've got cold beer at my apartment if you want to stop by after the cemetery."

Wilson looked up at his friend and nodded, yet again thankful that he hadn't lost them both that fateful evening and thankful that House chose not to snark about his reminiscing over what could never be.

"You can bring the pizza," House smirked.

Wilson shook his head and couldn't help but chuckle, reminded that House would always be House. Wilson angled his head slightly to the right, and a quizzical brow went up, "You're not going with Cuddy tonight?"

House didn't attempt to hide the look of confusion on his face, "Go where?"

"It's back to school night at Mia's school."

House picked up his cane and swung his legs over the side of the couch, twirling the cane a few times in thought. As he made his way to the door, he looked back saying, "I'll stop by your place later. Don't forget the onions on the pizza."

MMMMMMM

"Mommy! We're going to be late," Mia shouted from just inside the front door.

Cuddy walked down the hallway, "Mia, it doesn't take half an hour to get to your school. We won't be late, I promise." Cuddy grabbed her purse and began to open the front door, "I need to talk with your teacher befo…" She abruptly stopped upon finding herself standing face to face with House, who stood on the front porch. Her mouth dropped just a bit, surprised to see him standing there.

"Uncle House!" Mia shouted excitedly, "Are you coming with us?"

Before Cuddy had a chance to object, House took hold of Mia's hand and the pair began walking towards Cuddy's car, "Yep, your mom invited me."

House glanced back at a shocked Cuddy and flashed a tell tale grin. She returned the grin with a sneer.

"Mommy, you said it was just the two of us. You wanted to surprise me, right?" Mia said, giggling and half skipping as she walked hand in hand with House. Unable to break her daughter's heart, Cuddy nodded.

Once Mia was buckled-in, Cuddy shut the rear door and looked at House, whispering, "Don't ruin tonight. I'm warning you."

"Who, me?" he asked with a devious grin.

"You weren't invited for a reason."

"And yet you told Wilson about it and he wasn't invited."

"Because I knew if I told you about tonight, you would have showed up anyway."

House arrogantly cocked an eyebrow, "Well, that plan clearly worked."

Cuddy sighed, "This is about Mia tonight."

House pursed his lips, "And I've only ever had her worst interests at heart, right?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed again, "That's not what I said." She looked him in the eye and very earnestly said, "You know the only reason I put up with you is because she loves you so much."

Growing impatient with her heart to heart, House opened the car door and dismissing her words, he said, "Get in or we'll be late."

MMMMMMM

Miss. Roberts stood at the head of the classroom as the various parents sat in chairs entirely too small for adult use. Children sat excitedly with their parents, each having walked in with a nervous case of the excited jitters while strutting a bit more than normal in their non-school clothes. Some boys wore ties and dark suits, others in a more relaxed oxford shirt and khaki pants. Most of the girls were clad in preppy dresses with either wide stripes or a floral print. Mia sported a knee length, powder blue, sleeveless dress with two bands of navy-blue ribbon at the bottom hem, one considerably wider than the narrow band above it. A cream colored sweater and matching mary janes completed her outfit, and she sat nervously between her mom and uncle anxiously waiting to give them the grand tour.

Miss. Roberts greeted the parents, gave them a basic run through of the goals she had in mind for the year, reading at a level three and single digit addition being key; she then asked parents to kindly sign up for volunteer positions before allowing the students to show them around the room.

House stood near the bathroom, unable to hide his smile when he heard one young boy proclaim, "Mom! Look at the toilet! It's my size!"

He watched as the boy's mother shook her head, "I've waited for so long to see you do well in kindergarten and to watch you learn, and what's the first thing you proudly show me? The toilet."

"Uncle House?" Mia said, tugging at his hand, "Uncle House, come see the reading board." Cuddy gave him the evil eye when he rolled his eyes. House allowed himself to be pulled towards a bulletin board at the opposite side of the classroom.

He had built up an arsenal of examples he knew Cuddy couldn't ignore, starting with the over simplified behavior chart, to the counting games that only went up to number ten, to the matching game Mia could have completed when she was three. He had been on his absolute best behavior up until that point but decided he'd had enough. He knew Mia was too advanced for this class; he knew Cuddy knew it too. As they approached the reading board, which was a simple progress chart with stickers for each level completed, House became silent, suddenly realizing he needn't say a word.

"Mommy, look! My name's down here," Mia said, pointing to the very bottom of the chart. Every other student had one or two stickers in the above columns. The first row was for knowing the alphabet, the second for reading simple sight words and the third row began the individual reading levels which completed the remainder of the chart. Two students were in the third column. There weren't any stickers adjacent to Mia's name.

Cuddy looked at her in confusion, "Honey, you know your letters. You can read up to level twelve."

"The chart only goes up to level eight, so she put me at the bottom and said she'd give me a sticker and would write in the number."

Cuddy shook her head and walked over to Miss. Roberts, greeted her kindly and asked if she'd explain the reading chart. Miss. Roberts confirmed what Mia said.

"So, what level do most students leave kindergarten at?" Cuddy asked.

Miss. Roberts smiled at Mia, and at House, who of course did not return the gesture, before looking at Cuddy, "It ranges anywhere from two through eight, but most leave around level six."

Cuddy nodded, "I'd like to set up an appointment with you regarding Mia's educational goals. It seems to me that we need to develop a learning plan that will address Mia's needs. I've been concerned with the projects she brings home and with the simplicity of the homework."

"Absolutely," Miss. Roberts smiled.

"Good, I'll give you a call tomorrow if that's okay."

"Absolutely," Miss. Roberts shook Cuddy's hand and was soon speaking with another family.

House smirked, "Told ya so."

"Shut up. Where's Mia?" Cuddy looked around and found her standing at the far end of the classroom, deep in an argument with the infamous Bobby Prandle.

"He is so my uncle and he is strong."

"Na-uh, he's a cwipple. He doesn't love you like my daddy loves me."

"He does so!" She screamed.

"He can't love you. He's not yoow daddy," the boy teased. "I have a daddy," the boy said in a sing song voice, "And you don't. And he's not yoow weal uncle anyway and yoow mommy isn't yoow real mommy eithor."

Mia reddened in anger and she pointed her finger in the boy's face, "You don't know anything! My Uncle House is better than any stupid daddy. And my mommy is so my real mommy." she said, her face now wet with tears.

The boy started laughing, "You're just stupid."

And then it happened. Mia's mouth got the better of her and for all the time she spent with House, it came as no surprise to Cuddy when his snark spewed from her lips, "I'm the stupid one? You can't even say your "r's". You said yoow, like a baby. Watz a mattow, baby? Can't talk wight?" she teased, "You don't even have a sticker next to the alphabet on the reading chart. I'm reading chapter books, so who's the stupid one?"

Cuddy flushed as she reached for Mia's hand, ashamed at Mia's outburst while at the same time overwhelmed at how Mia had stood up for her family. Before she could reach her, House lifted Mia with his left arm and sat her on his hip while glaring at the boy. Cuddy could see the venom in his eyes and feared what he might say. He limped heavily towards the door and made sure that the boy's father and Miss. Roberts were near enough to hear him say, "Mia, look at me." She turned her head away, "Look. At. Me." Mia met his gaze, prepared for his lecture. "We are your family no matter what anyone who has their cranium stuck up their gluteus maximus says."

Mia looked up at him, returned his wry smile, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged tight, never loving her Uncle House so much as she did at that very moment. Cuddy took a few quick steps to catch up to them as grateful tears filled her eyes.

MMMMMMM

"Are you coming in?" Cuddy asked as they sat in the car in her driveway.

House shook his head and simply said, "Wilson."

She nodded and they exited the car. House waited for Mia to crawl out from the back seat and he allowed her to hug him briefly.

She squeezed him tight, looked up at him and said, "I love you," in a very sweet and tired voice.

"'Night Smiagle." House said, before hurrying off to his motorcycle.

"Thanks, House," Cuddy called out to him. He didn't look back, but simply held his hand up in a sort of wave as he zoomed off on his bike.

Once inside, Cuddy tucked Mia into bed, saying, "It's late and you need to sleep, but tomorrow, we need to talk about the things you said tonight."

Mia pursed her lips, "I just got so angry, I couldn't help it."

"Shhh, go to sleep."

"Mommy?"

"What, sweetie?"

"Uncle House never says I love you."

Cuddy sighed, "No, he doesn't."

"But you know what? I know he loves me anyway," Mia said with a smile.

Cuddy nodded, as she turned out the light, "Yes he does sweetheart; he loves you very much."

Mia's eyelids began to droop, "Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I know I was adopted, but you are my family, right? And you love me, right?"

Cuddy fought back the tears, "You are my daughter and I love you more than anyone else in the whole world." Cuddy leaned in and kissed Mia's forehead.

"I love you too, Mommy."

MMMMMMM

House shoved a large bite of pizza into his mouth and chased it down with nearly half a bottle of beer. Wilson watched him, fully aware that something must have happened that evening; House was quieter than usual, and there was a surprising lack of snark, though that could be due to his lack of speaking. Wilson thought he detected a hint of anger and wondered if he and Cuddy had an argument.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Fine."

"That's it? Fine?"

"Yep."

Wilson got up from the couch and moved towards his kitchen, "Want another beer?"

"Yeah."

"So, was the teacher any good? Is she going to work with Mia so she's challenged?"

House looked up at Wilson, "It's a stupid school with stuck up parents and kids who care more about the toilets than they do about learning."

"Huh?"

House shook his head, "Never mind. I have a feeling Mia won't be at that school for very long."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

Wilson stood with his hands on his hips, raised an eyebrow and said, "House," in a disbelieving tone.

House rolled his eyes, "I didn't say anything. Not one word to the teacher."

Wilson eyed him, but he sensed House was telling the truth and that left him feeling a bit unsettled.

Trying to change the subject, House donned a smirk and said, "So, did Amber have anything to say?"

Wilson frowned, saying nothing; he would have a little chat with Cuddy the next day and if she clammed up, he'd ask Mia.

"Good, 'cause if she did, we'd really have something to worry about."


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again for the reviews, very much appreciated! And a super big thanks to my betas **Chippers87 & Wrytingtyme** for all their help!

Chapter 4

The following morning, Wilson matched Shelby's stride as they walked towards his office, test results in hand. They rounded the corner and as they were about to turn left, into Wilson's office, they spotted House up ahead, limping towards his own office. Wilson held the door to his office open for Shelby, she entered and took a seat on the couch. Wilson took a seat opposite her in a chair.

"So, how bad is it?" Shelby asked.

Wilson took a deep breath, "Well, the original tumor has not reduced in size and the new tumor is lodged in your lymph node."

"I want you to be honest with me," Shelby began, "How serious is it? Do I need to consider making final arrangements, or is there a chance that I can beat this thing?"

Wilson nodded thoughtfully, "I think there's always a chance."

"But?"

"Your tumor is classified as T4, N1, M0," Wilson pointed to the paperwork he'd given her, "Which means, your tumor is growing into the chest wall and has spread to an axillary lymph node. The good news is that the cancer hasn't metastasized to a distant location."

Shelby looked at him a bit dazed.

"Which means you have a stage IIIB cancer."

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes upon hearing which stage she was in, "This is serious."

Wilson nodded solemnly, "Yes, it is."

She looked down at the paperwork, "Survival rate is only at 54 percent."

"Which is why I'd like to start a multimodality treatment approach immediately."

Shelby stared out of the window and again focused her attention on House who was seated at his own desk across the way, "What does that entail?"

"Neoadjuvant chemo, radical mastectomy, post operative radiotherapy and a second round of adjuvant chemo."

Shelby shook her head, "I know what chemo is and the mastectomy, but the rest is all Greek to me." A look of fear took hold, "The mastectomy is necessary?"

"I'm afraid so."

Shelby nodded, her gaze unfocused on the sky outside.

"I know it's a lot to take in, and we'll discuss each step as we go along." Shelby nodded quietly, "Do you have any family you'd like me to contact?"

She met his gaze, "I don't have any family and I don't know anyone here yet. I've only been at my new job for a week. My furniture hasn't even arrived."

Wilson noticed her large, hazel eyes; they were intense and striking. "Moving here from out of state on top of dealing with cancer must be a lot to take in all at once."

"What about my job?"

"Recovery will take some time. Are you able to take a leave of absence?"

She shook her head, "I don't think so."

"I'm sorry; if you need anything, let me know. I'm more than happy to help."

"Thank you Dr. Wilson."

"I'd like to admit you this afternoon to begin treatment immediately. Do you have any questions?"

Shelby shook her head, "No," a corner of her mouth turned up in a wry smile, "You could tell me more about Dr. House."

Wilson was taken aback at her sudden change in topic, though it was not unusual for some of his patients to focus on something other than a devastating diagnosis. "Uh, well, he's the head of diagnostics."

Shelby again looked out the window and watched as House stood from his desk and limped out of sight, "What happened to his leg? Cancer?"

Wilson assumed she thought House had beaten cancer, "No, actually."

Shelby turned her attention to Wilson, "Was he very young when it happened?"

"It happened," Wilson stared at the ceiling, trying to remember, "Oh, about thirteen years ago."

"Is he married?" she asked, suddenly looking down at the floor.

Wilson smiled, "I can introduce you if you'd like, but he's not really the dating type."

She shook her head a bit more forcefully than was needed, "No, no. I was just curious. So he's not married then?"

Wilson chuckled, "No." Wilson's pager beeped and he looked at it saying, "I have to go. I'll see you later this afternoon. The nurses will help get you settled at the front desk."

"Okay. Thank you Dr. Wilson."

* * *

Wilson met House in the hallway as he made his way towards the oncology ward, "Hey."

House slowed down as they approached the elevator bay, "What's that smirk for?"

"I think my patient has a crush on you."

"Really?" he asked, intrigued, "Is she good looking?"

Wilson blushed, "She's got incredible eyes."

"Wilson," House said, cocking an eyebrow, "Do you have the hots for your patient?"

He stopped near the elevator bay as House pressed the button, "She's got stage IIIB breast cancer. She's very ill."

"Interesting. You didn't deny it."

Wilson gave him a knowing look, "House, I'm not interested in my patient."

The elevator doors opened and House entered, turning around to face his friend. He half-smiled, "Sure you're not."

Before Wilson could retort, the elevator doors closed, leaving him alone.

* * *

"Wilson, what brings you to my office?" Cuddy asked.

He took a seat and fumbled with his hands for a moment before deciding to just ask, "What happened last night?"

"Excuse me?" Cuddy acted as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

"You know what I mean. Something happened last night at the school. He wouldn't say what; he seemed angry, but there was something more to it than that."

Cuddy placed her pen down and met his eyes. She sighed, "House doesn't like the school Mia's at."

"Already knew that. There's something more going on."

Cuddy frowned at his astuteness, "A boy told Mia that we weren't her real family and then he called her stupid."

Wilson raised his eyebrows, "That's not what I was expecting."

She sat back in her seat, "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe you had a fight."

Cuddy looked at him and shook her head slightly, "No. Well, he did invite himself along and I know what he thinks of the school, but no, we didn't fight."

Wilson looked a bit confused, "There must be something else, isn't there? House wouldn't get so upset over a five year old, would he? What did Mia say to the boy?"

She shrugged, "Mia said that we were a family."

"That's it?"

"When we got back to our place, she told him she loved him and he, of course, didn't say a word." Cuddy thought about the evening a bit more, "And she did tell the boy that House was better than a daddy."

Wilson closed his eyes in understanding, "She stood up for House."

"She did. She stood up for both of us, I was so proud of the way she told that boy that we were her real family."

"And what did House do?"

"He picked her up and told her never to let anyone tell her we weren't her real family."

Wilson leaned forward, "Don't you see?"

Cuddy looked at him, not fully understanding, "I don't follow."

"When has House's family ever stood up for him?"

"Oh," she sighed.

"And Mia said he was better than a daddy, and the two of you," Wilson was uncertain if he should broach the subject, "Well, he nearly was a daddy." It had been just over five years since Cuddy's miscarriage. A miscarriage that broke them apart, leaving House so severely depressed that he willingly sought out professional help. Cuddy placed her head into her hands, her elbows on her desk and sat silently.

"He never talks about it. Not to me anyway. I'm guessing he's never mentioned it to you either." Cuddy shook her head and he continued, "But I know how deeply that loss affected him."

"I know," she whispered, dropping her hands to the table top.

Wilson placed his hands on top of hers, reassuringly. "Mia's not his daughter, and he knows that. He may never verbally say it, but…"

She finished the sentence for him, "But he loves her like she is and last night, she fought for him."

"Exactly."

"And he protected her," Cuddy shook her head, willing the tears to keep at bay, "Oh, that man."

Wilson smiled, "He can be a real ass, but he's pretty remarkable sometimes."

Cuddy chuckled. "Don't ever let him know that," she said with a smile.

As if on cue, House burst through her office doors. He looked at them both, "Weren't talking about me, were you?"

"Uh, no. What do you want, House?" Cuddy said, guiltily.

"Here," he said, handing her a familiar manila envelope, "You forgot this the other day."

Wilson stood, intending to leave, "I'll see you later. House, we still on for dinner?"

He sat on the couch and looked at his friend, "Yeah. I've still got that beer."

Wilson smiled, knowing he would end up paying for the meal, "I'll stop by Mandarin Garden to pick up take out."

Cuddy's phone rang as Wilson placed his hand on the door knob. "Hello?" Cuddy listened momentarily before she exclaimed, "How long ago?" She paused before replying, "Why was she running if she said her heart was bothering her?"

House stood from the couch and headed towards the clinic, limping as quickly as he could.

Cuddy continued, "Why didn't you call an ambulance?" She opened her desk drawer and grabbed her purse, "Oh I see, so you listen to her when she says she's fine, but you ignore her when she says she can't run because her heart's bothering her?"

Wilson shook his head and ran out to join House, "What do you need?"

"Ears," House said as he threw several syringes into a paper bag labeled 'PPTH'.

"Here," Wilson said, removing his own stethoscope and handing it over. House paused briefly and nodded in thanks.

"Cuddy said that Mia told them she was feeling better."

House stopped to take inventory of the supplies spread out in front of him, "I heard her yelling from out here."

"What about paddles and oxygen?"

House shot Wilson a look of annoyance, knowing Cuddy went overboard with her obsessive-compulsive organization when it came to Mia's health. He rolled his eyes, "She keeps them in the car."

"Cell phone?"

"Yep."

"Use it."

House gathered the supplies and stuffed them into the paper bag, "My team…"

"Got it," Wilson reassured him.

Cuddy rushed out of her office, took one look at the boys and headed towards the front door. She turned back and saw House limping to catch up. She caught his eye briefly, "Not a word about that school, House."

House sported a wry smile, "Wouldn't think of it."


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks much to my betas... Chippers87 & Wrytingtyme for all their help! And thanks for reading/reviewing. Some how this story is turning more towards House & Cuddy than I had intended originally...not sure where this thing is headed now.

Chapter 5

House carried the bag of medical supplies and Cuddy carried the oxygen canister as they stormed the school's main office. Cuddy's demeanor spoke volumes and the receptionist instantly knew exactly who she was as Cuddy slammed the oxygen canister down on the counter top.

"Where's my daughter?"

The meek receptionist stood apologetically as she pressed the call button to summon her boss, "Mr. Belfan, the girl's parents are here."

House pursed his lips, "The girl? She has a name. I'm her uncle, not her father, you moron."

Cuddy placed her hand on his arm, silently shushing him; he yanked his arm out of her grasp. "Where is she?" she asked more insistently.

Somewhat frightened of the tall man with the cane, which he had imposingly set on top of the counter, the receptionist stammered, "Ri, ri, right over h..h..here."

She moved towards a small room just to the left of the office and Cuddy rushed in to find Mia lying on a small cot in the far corner. House sat on the adjacent cot as Cuddy's mothering kicked in.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm okay, Mommy."

"What happened?" she questioned, snatching the stethoscope from House's hands and immediately listening to her heart.

Before Mia could begin, Mr. Belfan appeared at the doorway, "I'm so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Cuddy."

House rolled his eyes and tartly replied, "She's not a Mrs. and I'm not a Cuddy."

Mr. Belfan looked confused; House imagined he looked that way often as he didn't strike him as a man worthy of principalship. Miss. Roberts soon appeared next to Mr. Belfan, looking extremely apologetic.

Cuddy removed the stethoscope from her ears and gave them back to House. She met his stare, "I'll be back," she said, leaving the two alone in the small room.

House sat on the edge of Mia's cot, helped Mia to remove her shirt and began his own extensive exam.

"Extra beat, too fast or too slow?"

"Too fast."

"And did you tell the teacher?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She didn't say anything. I think she thought I was faking."

House shook his head before taking a good, long listen to her heart. He checked her pulse and blood pressure, and used the oximeter to check her oxygen levels, all the while working in silence. Mia was a good patient, accustomed to having such tests performed.

"Uncle House?"

"Hmmm?"

She breathed a long sigh, "I'm tired."

"I know, Smiagle."

A corner of her mouth went up in a wry smile, reminiscent of a certain curmudgeonly uncle. "And you know what?"

House rolled his eyes, "What?"

"I hate this school."

"Me too. You won't ever have to come back here."

"Promise?"

"Would I lie to you?"

Mia half chuckled, "Yes."

House paused to look her in the eye, "I'm not lying right now."

Mia nodded, "I believe you."

* * *

Cuddy sat down adjacent to Miss. Roberts and opposite Mr. Belfan, in his office.

Mr. Belfan looked up, "Do you trust that man in there, alone with your daughter?"

Cuddy couldn't believe her ears. With jaw set, she did her best to control her anger, "I trust him implicitly," she snarled, minus the control she was aiming for.

"He's Mia's uncle," Miss. Roberts said quietly, "And a renowned doctor."

"Oh," Mr. Belfan nodded, embarrassedly.

"I need to know exactly what happened. Why was she running?"

Miss. Roberts looked down at her hands guiltily, "At the start of the year, we have the children run through a basic physical test to assess fitness level. It's standard."

"But I explicitly told you at the start of term that if Mia ever says her heart is bothering her, that she needs to sit out of any physical activity. She had open heart surgery as an infant, and occasionally her heart palpitates or throws an extra beat. She tires out very easily, even from just laughing."

"I'm sorry, I really am. I thought she was just trying to get out of P.E." Miss. Roberts looked generally apologetic, "She had been playing outside with the other children just fine at recess, and she was reluctant to put down a book when the children left for P.E., so I thought she was making an excuse to finish her book."

Cuddy shook her head, "I need to know exactly what she said and what happened so I can determine if I need to contact her cardiologist."

Before she got an answer, House walked into the room, followed closely by the annoying receptionist. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Belfan; he refused to wait outside," she said.

Cuddy met House's gaze, "Is she okay?"

He nodded, "No thanks to them," he motioned with his head, "I want an EKG to be safe and she needs to rest."

"Where is she?"

"Still on the cot." House looked at the teacher, "Well? What the hell were you thinking?" Cuddy gave him a warning look.

Miss. Roberts nodded, understanding how rightfully upset both Cuddy and House were and picked up her explanation where she'd left off, "She told me that she was feeling too tired to run, picked up her book and sat on the bench. I insisted that she participate, again thinking she was just trying to get out of the activity."

House couldn't keep his mouth shut, "So you had a child with known cardiac issues run, even after being specifically told that under no circumstances should she be allowed to overexert herself."

"I'm sorry," Miss. Roberts said.

"We need to know what symptoms she exhibited."

"She slowed almost immediately after the group started running. She stopped, grabbed at her chest and seemed to have trouble breathing and then she sat down."

"What time did this happen?"

Miss. Roberts looked at the clock, "Just over two hours ago."

House angrily shouted, "TWO HOURS?"

Cuddy couldn't ignore the time frame either, "You waited two hours to contact me? She could have gone into cardiac arrest, her heart could have failed."

"By the time we got her up and off the ground, she said she was feeling better."

"Unbelievable," House muttered.

"And you didn't think that episode warranted a phone call to me?"

Miss. Roberts looked extremely guilty, "I.."

"You what? Thought she was faking?" House asked, incredulously.

Miss. Roberts stared at her hands, "Yes," she whispered.

House stood from his seat and Cuddy joined him. "May I have the honors?" House asked her, almost excitedly as a twinkle of fiery anger flashed behind his steel-blue eyes.

"Be my guest," Cuddy replied with a nod.

House turned his attention towards Mia's soon to be former teacher and principal and sneered, "Inmates on death row deserve a better education than this poor excuse for a school. Mia won't be back."

Mr. Belfan defensively stood, balking at House's audacity, "You aren't her legal guardian."

Cuddy looked at him in disbelief, "Oh don't you dare think we'll be coming back. This will not go un-reported. What happened here today is unacceptable and unethical and I have half a mind to contact my lawyer. I guarantee you the proper authorities will be contacted."

"I'm so sorry," Miss. Roberts said through her tears.

"I was willing to look past the lack of challenging work for my daughter, because of this school's excellent reputation and because it's so early in the year. But this? This borders abuse and neglect. Dr. House speaks for all of us; we most definitely won't be back."

And with that, the pair walked out.

* * *

Mia sat on the sofa, feet stretched out across the cushions, her toes up against Cuddy's thigh. House sat in the recliner, feet up, eyes closed.

"Mia, how are you honey?"

Mia smiled at her mom, "Better."

"Where's the EKG machine?" House asked without opening his eyes.

"Hall closet."

He sighed, lowered the foot rest on the recliner and limped towards the hallway.

"Mia sweetie, I need to know if you told me everything that happened when your heart bothered you."

House walked back into the room, carrying the portable EKG machine and motioned for Cuddy to get off the couch.

"My heart did jumping jacks and then I couldn't breathe, just like it always does."

Cuddy nodded, "Okay."

House hooked her up, and took a reading. He studied the printout and passed it to Cuddy. She sighed with relief.

"You should still call McMillen and set up an appointment."

"I will," she said. Cuddy watched Mia stand, "Where are you going?"

Mia looked at her with tired eyes, "Bathroom."

"Oh, okay. No playing around, I want you back here on the couch or in your bed when you're done."

"Okay."

Once Mia was out of earshot, Cuddy looked at House, "Thanks for today."

House was once again seated in the recliner, eyes shut. He kept them shut when he said, "You've got an appointment to have her tested at Synergy on Monday."

She furrowed her brow, "What?"

House opened his eyes, "I called them this morning, before any of this. Knew you'd pull her eventually. Didn't realize it would be this fast." He watched her momentarily, noting the stress in her eyes. He stood from his perch on the coffee table, fully expecting what would come next.

She shook her head, somehow not really surprised that he would make the call. Cuddy felt suddenly very tired, worn out by the strain of the day; she took a step forward, closing the gap between them. She looked up at him, "Can I have a hug now?"

He chewed on in his bottom lip, "Is anyone looking?"

She smiled as she looked back and forth as though she were a thief on a furtive mission, "Nope."

House rolled his eyes and opened his arms, allowing her to hug him. It was brief, but in that brief instant, she relaxed. He didn't offer it often, but when Cuddy needed it most, House begrudgingly allowed her to hug him. Their relationship had morphed into something slightly more than friendship over the years, including a few rogue nights when a little too much alcohol led them to the bedroom; they never talked about how convenient it was that Mia happened to be at Wilson's for a sleepover on those rogue nights. The relationship never went as far as it had five years prior and both knew that they would never be as close as they were then. When push came to shove however, he was always there when she needed him, and she was always there for him, whether he thought he needed her or not.

"Enough. Squeeze any tighter and the funbags might want more than just a hug," he said with a smirk.

Cuddy pulled back and smacked him on the arm, "Don't think you're getting any just because you hugged me."

"But Mom, it's been over a year since you last let me see the twins."

"All the more reason you shouldn't hold your breath," she smirked back.

House resumed his seat on the recliner when the door bell rang. Cuddy answered the door and found Wilson looking a bit worried, holding a large bag of Chinese take-out in one hand and a six pack of soda in the other.

He smiled as he held the food up, "Hungry?"

Cuddy returned the smile, "Come in, Wilson."

"How's Mia?"

"She's okay, just another one of her episodes."

Wilson nodded in greeting at House. He then looked at Cuddy, "Where is she?"

"Bathroom. She'll be out in a minute. I'll get some plates, we can eat in here."

Wilson walked over to the couch and sat down, placing the food on the coffee table and tossing House a soda. "I thought you had your cell phone on you."

"I did."

"And you couldn't call?"

"Forgot."

Wilson sighed, "I had no idea if I should wait at the hospital or stop by here to see how she was doing."

"I thought you'd figure it out if we didn't show up at the hospital."

"Well, how thoughtful of you."

"Here," House said, passing the EKG readout to Wilson. Wilson read the strip and relaxed.

"Uncle Jimmy!" a tired, but very happy voice called out as she approached.

"Mia, Mia Bo Bee Ya," Wilson replied, holding his arms out for a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a tight squeeze before joining him on the couch.

Cuddy returned with the plates and picked up the bag of medical supplies House had taken from the hospital to make room for the food. The bottom of the bag tore away and several syringes and odds and ends clattered to the floor. Cuddy picked them up, eyeing each of the syringes when she looked up at House quizzically.

"Lorazepam? She wouldn't have needed that."

House shrugged, "It was for you, not her."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, "I haven't fainted in over three years, thank you."

House shrugged again, but said nothing.

Mia kneeled at the coffee table to eat while Wilson and Cuddy shared the couch. House never moved from his spot on the recliner. Talk was light, nearly non-existent as each chewed in exhausted silence, only mumbling about how good the fried rice was, or to pass the chowmein. When they were finished, Cuddy cleared away the leftovers and placed the dishes in the sink before returning to the living room.

It was a bit early in the evening and Mia turned to Cuddy, "Can we watch The Incredibles?"

House whined, "I wanna watch Monster's, Inc."

Mia smiled and looked to her mother, "Please?"

"Yeah, please, Mommy? We'll be extra good tomorrow, and Wilson will take out the trash and do the dishes," House said in a sing-song voice.

Cuddy stifled a laugh, "Fine, put in the DVD, Mia."

Mia pulled The Incredibles off the shelf, looked at it and then replaced it, instead grabbing Monster's Inc. before popping it into the machine.

Wilson patted the couch next to him, "Come here squirt."

Mia looked a little torn and very sweetly said, "But I always sit with Uncle House when we watch movies."

Wilson smiled trying to hide his disappointment, "Okay."

Mia returned his smile, "I'll sit with you next time, okay?" Wilson nodded.

Mia crawled onto the recliner and wedged herself into the gap between the armrest and House's left side; a gap House had specifically left open for her, though he acted put-out, frowning as if she were annoying him. She snuggled in and rested her ear on his chest. House glanced over at Wilson and shot him a smirk.

Mia was asleep ten minutes into the film. House was asleep five minutes after that.

Cuddy looked over at Wilson and whispered, "I don't think they've ever seen this one all the way through." They both chuckled softly before she turned off the television. She and Wilson spent the next few hours in the kitchen doing the dishes, taking out the trash and talking about the day's happenings over hot tea.

A/N: I know Mr. Belfan is a complete idiot in this fic. I worked as a teacher for many years and his character is based off of a former principal I worked for. He was an idiot and completely oblivious to what was going on in his school. I lived a little vicariously through Cuddy in this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks much for reading and especially for reviewing! And extra thanks to my betas for really taking the time to help me work through some plot elements (amongst other things!)… chippers87 & wrytingtyme.

The Huddy gods have spoken! Yeah, I totally caved. So much for this not being a Huddy fic…but please don't expect them to wind up married and living happily ever after…so totally NOT how I write, unless it's a spoof. No spoof here.

No hurt House in this fic (not physically anyway)…but I am considering turning this into a quadrilogy (omg, did I really just write that?!) in which the next story WOULD be a hurt!House fic. Still thinking on it…was going to make it a separate story and now I'm looking at incorporating it into this series (verse? IDK, whatever you call it).

Chapter 6

Cuddy was impressed; she was given a tour of Synergy while Mia was taking the entrance exam and she knew this was the school for Mia. Students were grouped by grade level, like any other school, but if they excelled in one area, they were allowed to work with students who were at the same level, regardless of age. In each classroom she visited, students were all thoroughly engaged in whatever it was they were working on, they were on task, and they seemed to genuinely enjoy what they were doing. The grounds themselves were clean, and the school was set in an old mansion on a forty acre property, laden with tall trees and sprinkled with rose gardens. A brand new gym sat adjacent to a soccer field, and the lower school was separated from the upper school by a one-way road that looped through the campus. Parents were welcomed to visit during the day and each teacher had a classroom aide. Tuition was steep, but she could certainly afford it and the school went from kindergarten through twelfth grade. Grades five and above had an annual trip with the lower grades visiting United States landmarks, and the upperclassmen visiting one foreign country for each year of high school. Community service was emphasized, academics were top notch, and Cuddy was sure that much to House's delight, the school offered private musical lessons with distinguished musicians. Cuddy hated to admit it, but House had chosen well. She only hoped the school had room for one more kindergartener.

Cuddy sat just outside the main office, her attention focused on several students sitting on the floor at the end of the hallway, each lost in a book when Mia came skipping up to her from the other end of the hall.

"Mommy!"

"Mia, sweetie, you shouldn't be skipping just yet."

Mia rolled her eyes, "I'm fine, Mommy."

"Dr. Cuddy," Mrs. Sandoval said as she approached, "Why don't we step into my office?"

Cuddy nodded, "Sure."

Once seated in the office, Mrs. Sandoval asked if Mia would like to join the kindergarten class at recess and Mia agreed, leaving the dean of the school and the dean of the hospital to talk.

"My assistant is reviewing Mia's test right now and it should be finished in about twenty minutes," Cuddy nodded, "I can tell you that we do have one kindergarten position open. If we decide that Synergy is the right place for Mia, she could start school as soon as tomorrow." Cuddy sat quietly, anxious to ask her various questions.

Mrs. Sandoval continued, "And I see that Mia was in a half day program before. Are you aware that Synergy has a full day kindergarten?"

"Yes, I think that would actually work better for Mia."

"Great. As you've seen, our students wear uniforms, which can be purchased at the shop on Fourth Avenue," Mrs. Sandoval passed a sheet towards Cuddy with the directions on it, "And we will need you to fill out these forms, in triplicate." Cuddy's eyes grew wide at the small stack, "I know it seems like a lot. You can get started on these forms now, if you wish"

Cuddy shook her head, "I'm sorry, I'm not quite following. I thought we were waiting on the test results?"

"It's a technicality. I was there for the test and I've already conducted the interview with Mia. I can tell you, she is a perfect fit for our school." Cuddy's smile grew wide with relief. "Do you have any questions?"

Cuddy sat up a bit, "Yes, and a few concerns. I'm not sure if Mia explained why we we're here, but Mia had heart surgery as an infant and I need to be absolutely certain that when she says her heart is bothering her, that I be contacted immediately."

Mrs. Sandoval nodded, "Absolutely. Dr. House was insistent that he be contacted as well."

Somewhat shocked, Cuddy pulled her chin back, "Oh, I didn't realize he'd contacted you other than to set up the initial appointment."

Mrs. Sandoval glanced down at her notes and smiled, "He called me this morning and was quite clear in his instructions regarding Mia in case of a medical emergency. You are to be called immediately, followed by Dr. House. Mia, apparently, can tell us if it's a regular episode or something worse. He said he wanted to be here for this meeting, but he said something about his boss insisting he do clinic hours."

Cuddy couldn't help but chuckle, "Yes, Mia knows her body very well. And I would be the boss who insisted he do his job."

Mrs. Sandoval laughed, "And he's her uncle?"

"He's not her biological uncle, but he and my daughter are extremely close and if for any reason you are unable to contact me, he has my full authority to act on her behalf, particularly for any medical concerns."

"Be sure to note that on the forms I've given you. Rest assured, we have a full time nurse on staff and I myself have a son who had an Atrioventricular Canal Defect at birth. I can completely sympathize with how you feel."

Cuddy nodded in understanding, "You are well aware of what we've been through then. Your son likely had a shunting procedure performed?"

"Yes, and I don't ever care to relive that experience. His doctor was Dr. McMillen, have you heard of her?"

Cuddy smiled broadly, "She's Mia's doctor."

"She saved my son's life."

Cuddy nodded, "Mia's too."

Mrs. Sandoval's assistant appeared at the doorway, "Here are the test results."

"Thank you Olivia."

Mrs. Sandoval reviewed the results before passing them to Cuddy, "So, if you'll just complete those forms before you leave, we'll see you tomorrow?"

Cuddy smiled, "Absolutely."

Mrs. Sandoval stood and extended her hand, "Call me Claire."

Cuddy stood and shook Claire's hand, "I'm Lisa."

"Welcome to Synergy, Lisa."

* * *

House walked outside, taking a break from the bickering going on between two of his fellows. Thirteen and Foreman had spent the afternoon arguing about a paper they had co-authored, and House figured the best way to deal with it was to just walk away. He stood on the balcony and peered through Wilson's window. Wilson had a patient in his office and House could see it was a woman Wilson enjoyed being with; his demeanor was just ever so slightly different with her than with his other patients. He held her hand just a little longer and sat next to her on the couch instead of opposite her. His smile was genuine, not the plastered-on smile to ease the fatally ill, or newly informed cancer patient. House quickly determined this was the woman Wilson had a crush on. The woman with the incredible eyes, according to Wilson anyway.

House inched closer to Wilson's side of the balcony, trying to get a glimpse of Wilson's secret crush. Ever so nonchalantly, House appeared to be looking at the vista before him as he slowly climbed over the wall that separated his side of the balcony from Wilson's. The patient sat with her back slightly facing House. House moved away from the balcony's edge and closer to the wall, trying to get a better angle to see from. He was so intent on catching a glimpse of Wilson's lady love, that he failed to notice the stray tree twig on the ground. He unknowingly placed his cane on the twig and the cane promptly slipped, causing House to fall to the ground.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wilson caught sight of House going down, causing him to jump up from the couch; startled by Wilson, Shelby turned to watch Wilson head outside. With a scowl, Wilson extended a helping hand to his long time friend.

"If you wanted to meet her, you should have just asked."

House pushed Wilson's hand away, too stubborn to accept any help, "I wasn't trying to look at her."

"Right."

House sighed, stood up and reached for his cane. Shelby's eyes met his, as she passed it to him. The two locked eyes momentarily, neither daring to be the one to look away first.

"House, this is Shelby Richter," Wilson motioned to Shelby with his hand, "And Shelby, this is Dr…"

"Greg," she said quietly, with a slight nod. She didn't attempt a smile.

House took in her pallid complexion and her nearly hairless scalp. His brows knit downward in anger, though Wilson thought he detected a hint of something else there too, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Without so much as a word, House turned around, walked back to his office, and shut the blinds tight. Wilson raised his eyebrows, confused at the unexpected reaction as he turned to look questioningly at Shelby.

He placed his hands on his hips, "Just how well do you know House?"

Staring at the twig on the ground, she said, "It's complicated."

* * *

Several hours later, Cuddy and Mia arrived at the hospital, carting a well earned lunch for House. Cuddy thought he might appreciate his thanks via food rather than verbally.

"Can I go? Can I? Please?"

"Yes, Mia," Cuddy said, while dialing Wilson in her cell phone.

Mia rushed off to the elevator as Cuddy followed close behind her, "I'm coming with you."

"But Mom," she whined.

"No buts. I need to talk with your Uncle House."

Cuddy turned her attention to the cell phone, "Wilson?" She paused, listening to Wilson rant about the encounter with Shelby, "No, I have no idea. He didn't say anything?" She paused again, "Yes, I'll talk to him. Mia's here, can she hang out in your office while I talk with him?"

As they exited the elevators, Cuddy said, "Mia, I want you to visit with Uncle Jimmy and he will bring you to Uncle House's office when it's time, okay?"

"Okay!"

* * *

Cuddy tentatively opened the door to his office and stepped inside silently. "Hey," she said as she approached him.

House was seated at his desk, seemingly thoroughly engrossed in an email. "Not in the mood for a pow wow."

"I brought you something," she nearly whispered, purposely keeping her voice quiet.

"Not now Cuddy."

"All your favorites from Ming's."

House took his eyes off of the computer screen and looked at the bag she set on the table, "I'll eat it later."

Cuddy sat down opposite him, refusing to leave. "What's up?"

Annoyed, he sighed, "I said not now."

"You used to talk to me."

"You used to let me do unspeakable things to you in the dark."

"That was when you still talked to me."

He shrugged.

"Who is she?"

House shook his head, clearly not ready to talk about it. Cuddy watched him and her heart dropped just a bit, wishing he would trust her like he once did. He occasionally opened up, in the rarest of moments, but the man kept everything bottled up inside and it was all she could do to keep herself from grabbing him by the neck and shaking the stubbornness out of him.

She pursed her lips, "Mia's here and she's really excited about Synergy; she starts tomorrow. She insisted on wearing the new uniform just so she could show you."

House finally met her gaze.

"Whatever you're angry at, please don't take it out on her."

He frowned, "Have I ever?"

Cuddy tilted her head to one side, unwilling to answer.

House closed his eyes, somewhat ashamed. "I won't."

Cuddy looked at him with the old familiar stirrings deep in her heart for this man. She wondered just what it was about him that made her feel like the earth stopped when they were alone. She stood, leaned over the desk, and lightly kissed his lips.

"When you tell me what's going on, I'll talk to Wilson about when he should invite Mia over for another sleepover."

House looked up at her with the raise of an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye, and just the hint of a smile touching the corners of his mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

Well, this chapter was like trying to sqeeze lemon juice out of an apple. I thought I'd never get through it! Sorry it's taken me so long to get the next chapter of "Ours" out. I was working on the 3 other fics for **cuddyfest at lj**. I've posted these three new stories here at ff too..."Needle & Thread", "Cry" and "Tapping the Glass". I needed a bit of a break from this one. I'm working on this again now and should be placing one or two chapters up a week. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Thanks to Wrytingtyme for betaing this chapter.

**Chapter 7**

House watched Cuddy walk away before he moved to the more comfortable chair in his office. He put his feet up, closed his eyes and remembered Shelby as he reminisced about the last time he had seen her.

_They had met at the park, as they always had, in secret. It had to be that way. He looked into her eyes as they talked, and she into his. Her eyes first drew him to her; there was something about her eyes that haunted him, intrigued him._

"But Greg, he can't know."

"Shelby, he already does."

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, afraid of what the future would bring, "How?"

"I told him."

Confused, she shook her head, "Why would you do that?"

He slammed his fist onto the picnic table they were seated at, "Because I was angry. He lied to me. He acted like you didn't exist."

"What are we going to do now?"

A young Greg House set his jaw and uttered words he knew he'd regret, words he regretted the instant they left his lips, "I don't love you. I don't want you in my life. Go on. Get out." And in a moment of self preservation, which would so often become the norm in the years that followed, he turned a cold shoulder to Shelby and feigned disinterest as he walked away, his heart breaking.

House placed his thumb and middle finger on his temples, unable to rub away the mistakes of the past. He closed his eyes hoping sleep would come, but it was not sleep that crawled into his lap.

"Uncle House?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why are you sad?"

He opened his eyes to look at Mia, "Just tired."

"Are you sick?"

"Nope."

"You look like you need an ice-cream cone."

If only things were cured so simply. House lifted her and set her feet down on the floor beside him and stood beside her. "You know, I think you're right."

"I am?"

"Yep."

"Can I come?"

"Yep."

"But I'm wearing my new uniform, Mommy will get mad if I spill on it."

Leave it to Mia to be the voice of reason. House frowned, limped to his desk and picked up the phone, dialing Cuddy's office.

"House?" Cuddy answered.

"Mia and I are taking the rest of the day off. I'll have her home before eight."

"Is everything okay?"

"Can't an uncle take his niece out for an afternoon?" He said, a bit on the snarky side.

Slightly confused, Cuddy tread lightly, "Sure, of course. It's just, you never really…"

"I am today."

"Oh, okay," she responded, no less confused. "Are you sure you're okay? I can take the afternoon off, if you want me to."

House sighed, "I don't need a babysitter."

Somewhat hurt, she replied, "I just thought you might like some company. Put her on the phone." House held the phone out to Mia, without responding to Cuddy.

"Mommy?"

"Sweetie, I want you to be on your best behavior, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Before you go, come down to my office so you can change out of your new school clothes."

"Okay. Bye."

* * *

House and Mia stood in line at the ice-cream shop. Mia hadn't said a word on the ride over and House had only said things like, "Put your seatbelt on," and "Hold my hand," as they crossed the street. Mia was astute in her assessment that House was feeling down, and once they had crossed the street, she didn't pull her hand from his, instead holding on tight.

She looked up at him, "Uncle House, how come Uncle Jimmy takes me places but you don't?"

"What do you call this?" he asked, gruffly.

Mia shrugged, "Mommy's going to be mad that I had ice-cream for dinner."

"This isn't dinner."

"It's almost dinner time."

"Stop acting like your mom. Sometimes, it's okay to eat dessert first."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

Mia looked up at him, squeezed his hand and nodded, "Yes."

"So, what kind do you want? Cookies and cream?"

"I can't have that, remember?"

House furrowed his brow, "Right, no dairy. Okay, so what do you want then?"

"Rainbow sherbet in a cone; the kind with the pointy bottom."

House ordered the ice-cream and the pair took a seat near the entrance and ate the first few bites in silence. House watched Mia eat her rainbow sherbet and again he found himself lost in another memory, of a time shortly before he last saw Shelby.

_"We're moving soon," Shelby said with tears in her eyes._

Greg swirled his mostly uneaten ice-cream with a spoon, "I hate them."

"Me too," she said, sadly. "What if I never see you again?"

"Won't happen."

"Does you mom know?" he asked, waiting for her to stop playing with her ice-cream cone to look at him.

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

Shelby finally stopped playing with the cone and looked at him, "She said we're good for each other."

"Uncle House?" Mia tapped his arm, "Uncle House?"

House brought his attention back to the present, "Hmmm?"

"Aren't you going to eat your ice-cream? It's melting."

He looked down at his cup of rocky road, "No. Are you finished?"

"Yes. Why are you so sad?"

House looked at her and shook his head, "I'm not."

"Do you trust me?" she asked, sweetly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You always ask if I trust you and I do. I want to know if you trust me."

House inhaled deeply, wondering where her questioning was headed, "Sure."

"Then why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't."

"You just did again. You're sad. I can tell."

"It's grown-up stuff."

"Okay, then just say that. Don't lie to me."

House nodded.

Mia grimaced, "I have a tummy-ache."

"Too much sherbet?" he asked. She nodded.

House took his cell phone out and dialed Cuddy, "Hey," he said when he heard her voice.

"Everything okay?"

"Smiagle's got a stomach ache."

"What did you do, House?"

"I didn't do anything. She just ate too much ice-cream."

"You gave her ice-cream before dinner?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say the two of you were blood related."

"Take her back to my place and give her some crackers. I'll be home in about an hour. You still have the key, right?"

"Yes, Mommy," House said mockingly.

* * *

"But I don't want it."

"It'll make your stomach feel better."

"But it tastes like minty chalk."

"Just put the spoon in your mouth."

Mia began to cry, "But Uncle House, it's icky."

House tipped his chin down and glared at her, "Mia Rose Cuddy, open your mouth, right now."

Mia gulped at his sternness, as she was not accustomed to hearing it from him. She gave him one last look with her puppy dog eyes and when it didn't work, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide. House wasted no time in shoving the spoon in, the liquid antacid dripping a bit down her chin. Mia swallowed with her face scrunched up in disgust.

"Blech."

"You'll feel better soon."

"When's Mommy coming home?"

"About half an hour."

Mia was cranky and tired, and very whiny, "I want Mommy."

"Just lay still and she'll be here soon," House stood from the edge of her bed, pulled the covers up to her chin and headed for the door.

"Uncle House? Where are you going?" She asked with a fresh pair of tears forming in her eyes.

"I'll be in the living room."

"Stay here, please?"

House pursed his lips, not wanting to deal with a sick child, even if it was something as simple as an ice-cream overdose. He reluctantly walked back over to her bedside and resumed his seat.

"Will you read me a story?"

He rolled his eyes, "Which one?"

"The one about the rabbit."

"You have twenty about rabbits. Can you be a little more specific?"

"Specific?"

"Narrow it down, tell me the exact one you want."

"Oh. Um, the one with the rabbit that carries his blanket everywhere."

House held up a book, "This one?" Mia nodded.

He twisted around so that she could see the book as he read. It was an awkward position as he sat on the right hand side of the bed with his good leg somewhat up on the mattress, and his bad leg hanging down, bearing more weight.

"Uncle House, I can't see."

"Scoot." Mia inched over and House crawled into bed beside her, though he stayed on top of the covers. "Better?"

Mia nodded again and in a tired, whispered voice, she said, "I love you, Uncle House."

House began to read and before the story was half over, she was asleep.

* * *

Cuddy came home nearly two hours later, running late because of an emergency at the hospital. She walked straight to Mia's room and discovered House in Mia's bed, his arm wrapped under her neck.

She lightly touched his arm, trying not to jolt him awake, "Hey," she whispered.

He opened his eyes, "She's asleep."

Cuddy smiled at his simplicity, "You have an uncanny knack for stating the blatantly obvious."

"I do my best," he quipped.

"How is she?"

He shrugged, "Okay. She's been asleep for nearly two hours. Gave her some antacid."

Cuddy nodded, "She's nervous about tomorrow; I wondered when the stomach ache would start. Why don't you come out to the kitchen?"

"Not sure I can get out without waking her up."

"You won't wake her, she sleeps like a log."

* * *

They sat sipping at coffee and eating grilled cheese sandwiches in Cuddy's kitchen.

"I've been thinking about something," she started.

"No, you may not tack on more clinic hours."

She half chuckled, "Work stays at work, remember?"

He thought back to their agreement several years prior. They had tried dating again when Mia turned two, and at the time, they made a pact to leave work related issues at work. The dating thing didn't stick, but the agreement did, for the most part anyway.

"Not what I was going to say," she said, taking a sip of coffee.

"What then?"

She looked at him, hoping he wouldn't automatically say no, "Well, I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I'm …" she paused, trying to build up enough courage to actually ask him.

"I'm worried about Mia..."

House interrupted her, "What's wrong with Mia?"

She smiled inwardly at his obvious concern, essentially his love for her, and hoped that love would play into his decision. "Nothing, no she's fine. What I was saying was that I'm worried about what would happen to Mia should something happen to me."

House studied her, searching her face for any signs or clues. Not finding any, he asked, "So, is there something you're not telling me?"

Realizing that House immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion about her own health, she shook her head. "No, I'm not sick either." Cuddy placed her hand on top of his, trying to be reassuring. "I'd tell you if something was wrong." He eyed her, suspiciously.

"I would, House. We've been through too much not to." He sat silently, not acknowledging her words.

"It's just after that day at the school, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if I couldn't be there. What if something does happen to me? Mia has no one else."

"She's got Wilson," he said with a smirk.

Slightly dejected, her shoulders dropped a bit, "Not what I mean."

"So, what do you want from me? You're past your prime for baby-making, so I don't think you're asking me for _that_ favor."

She shook her head, the timing was off and the conversation wasn't going as she had hoped, and his snark was almost more than she could bear. "You know that you're the one she loves most."

He couldn't hide the hint of a smile peaking through the corner of his mouth. It was something that Wilson was well aware of too, and House of course teased him about it every chance he got.

And in a voice just barely above a whisper, she added, "And I know you love her, too." House said nothing.

She looked at him and nodded, "So, you don't deny it."

He cast his eyes downward, staring deep into his cup of coffee and shook his head. He couldn't deny the little girl in the room down the hallway, not to anyone. The two of them were a common sight at PPTH, and the whispers of House doting on a baby died out long ago; his connection with Mia was accepted by everyone who knew them.

Cuddy took a deep breath and as quickly as she could, before she lost her nerve, she belted out, "I want you to legally adopt Mia."

House sat stock still and uttered not a sound.

Before he had a chance to gather his thoughts, Cuddy continued, "Don't make a decision right now; I want you to think about this for a while. I know it's asking a lot, but no one would have to know, not even Mia. It would be in name only, just in case something should happen to me, so she would be taken care of. I'd make sure she was financially secure but I'd feel so much better knowing she was with someone she loves."

They locked eyes for a moment and she couldn't quite read his expression; he was neither angry nor accepting of her proposal. He almost looked comical and had clearly not anticipated what she had to say. It was a look he did not wear often, and Cuddy had the distinct feeling that she had just thrown House for a loop.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for the reviews! And thanks to my beta for this chapter: chippers87!

Chapter 8

"Something's bothering you."

House looked up from his desk and shook his head, denying Wilson's accusation.

"You can't lie to me, House. Your limp is worse, you're grouchier than usual," he paused, taking in his friend's weathered look. He somehow looked older today. "It's Shelby, isn't it?"

House pursed his lips and finally placed his pen down to run his hands through his hair. He breathed deep, stared at the ceiling and then at his friend.

With the arch of one brow he said, "It's not Shelby."

"Yes it is. Who is she?"

House closed his eyes, "It is Shelby, but it's not."

Wilson shook his head, "Well, that certainly clears it up." He took a seat opposite House.

House sighed, "What would you do if someone you know asks you to legally adopt their kid?"

Wilson pulled his chin back in surprise, not at all expecting House to say what he did. "Cuddy asked you to adopt Mia?"

House nodded.

"Did she say why?"

"She's got it in her head that something might happen to her."

"She's not sick?"

House shook his head, "She's fine. She's playing the what-ifs game."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"You love Mia." Wilson stated this as a fact, not as a question. House met Wilson's gaze but said nothing. Again, he couldn't deny it but he was reluctant to admit it.

"Right, well, you do love her and if it's just in case something should happen to Cuddy, why not?"

"You think I should. If she'd asked you, you would have said yes."

Wilson nodded, "I would have. Why won't you? Aren't you worried where Mia would go if something happened to Cuddy?"

House placed his head in hands, his elbows on the desk, "Nothing's going to happen to Cuddy."

"So there shouldn't be any problem then. It's just precautionary. Cuddy's healthier than most women half her age."

"I'm not cut out to be a dad," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"She's not asking you to be a dad. She's asking you to be a godfather."

House stood from his desk and headed towards the conference room, "Gotta go, patient's probably dying."

"You don't have a patient, House." House shrugged as Wilson continued, "Fine, so you don't want to talk about it. Why don't you tell me about Shelby?"

House turned to look at Wilson and with a sharp tongue said, "So, miss Amber much?"

It was a blow that Wilson knew was House's way of ending the conversation and he took it in stride, "That was low House, even for you. If you don't want to talk about it, just say so. When you're ready to talk, you know where to find me." Wilson left the office, without looking back. He knew House would eventually seek him out, tell him about Shelby, and apologize in his own way.

* * *

House made his way down the hall, alone, and found himself glancing in each room. One by one he tried to convince himself that he wasn't looking for Shelby, and one by one he stepped closer and closer to finding her. Finally, at the second to last room at the very end of the hall, he found her. She was in bed, pale faced, gaunt, just a few strands of hair remaining on her head, and as ever, her eyes bore into him just as they always had.

"Took you long enough," she said as he silently approached her bedside.

"Only about, thirty-three, thirty-four years."

"I'm not sure I want you here," Shelby said, looking out the window, unable to maintain his gaze.

"Tough. This is my hospital."

"Oh, so you own it now?"

"Head of diagnostics."

"I've heard."

House sat in the chair near her bedside, and reviewed her chart. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing there and as a result, he was at a loss for words.

Shelby slowly turned her head towards him, exhausted from the short conversation, "You told me you didn't love me. You told me you didn't want me in your life. Do you remember?"

House said nothing, seemingly pouring all of his attention into her chart; the words blurred as his mind wandered elsewhere.

"I have to know," she whispered.

"You should rest."

"Did you mean it?"

He set the file down on the small side table and sighed as he stood to leave. "You know the answer to that."

"Do I?"

House stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn around to face her.

"Will you come back?"

"Got a consult," he said, walking out of her sight.

* * *

Wilson walked into Cuddy's office and from the look on his face, she knew he was there because of only one person.

"Has he told you who she is yet?" Cuddy asked, turning off her computer screen.

"No. You?"

"No."

"You asked him to adopt Mia."

Cuddy nodded, "I did."

Wilson stood momentarily before taking a seat on her couch. Cuddy remained at her desk, watching him as he tried to rifle through the various thoughts going through his mind. She could see that he was disappointed that she had chosen House as Mia's potential guardian, but she was sure she had made the right choice.

She finally decided to explain, hoping he would understand, "I thought long and hard about my decision."

Wilson put his hand up, stopping her from going any further, "It's okay. I don't understand Mia's relationship with him any more than you do, but we all know how much they mean to each other. You made the right choice. She's good for him."

"He's good for her too, and so are you," Cuddy said, meaning it. She looked at him and sensed there was more to his melancholy than he was letting on, "Did he say something to you?"

He shook his head, "No, just House being House. Long day."

"How are things in oncology?"

Wilson eyed her, knowing she specifically meant Shelby. "I'm thinking of passing her case off to Dr. Rogerstein."

"Why?"

Wilson couldn't hide his embarrassed smile, "I'm not sure I can keep my relationship with Shelby strictly professional."

She raised her eyebrows, "You're interested in her?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug, "If House is, then no. I won't cross that boundary. But if he's not, I think I'd like to get to know her better."

She smiled. Wilson had gone on a few dates since Amber passed away, but most had been merely to temporarily shut Cameron and Cuddy up about it being okay to see other women. He hadn't been interested in anyone, and he certainly hadn't initiated any of the dates. Normally she would frown upon a doctor showing interest in a patient, but given it was Wilson, she was willing to make an exception, particularly if he passed her case to another oncologist.

"You should," she said approvingly.

Wilson nodded.

Cuddy looked down at her hands, hesitant to ask. "I know you're tired, but I was wondering if you'd like Mia to visit tonight?" Cuddy brought her eyes up to meet his from across the room.

Wilson half smiled, "So, you and House? I thought you two weren't…"

She blushed, quietly laughing at herself, "I'm a glutton for punishment, what can I say?" She shook her head, embarrassed. "I was just hoping to get him to open up about Shelby and if Mia's there, he won't say a word to me."

"Sneaky."

"Don't judge me. I'm worried about him."

Wilson stood, whispering, "We both are."

"So, should I send her up to your office then, once she gets here? I'll pay for pizza."

"I want to know what he says about Shelby, but spare me the rest of the details."

"Wilson!"

"Hey, what the two of you do behind closed doors is none of my business."

"I told you, I only want to find out about Shelby."

Wilson smirked, "He tells me everything anyway, although sometimes I have to wonder how much of it's the truth and how much of it's for shock value." Cuddy's eyebrows shot up as her cheeks reddened.

He smiled, "It's okay Cuddy, your secret's safe with me." As he edged towards the door, he turned around one last time, "You're even better for him than Mia is. The two of you should have figured that out a long time ago."

* * *

Cuddy tried to focus on her paperwork, but found she was thinking about House instead. She closed her eyes, placed her elbows on the table and her head into her hands, trying to work out the confusion named Greg House. She tried to put him out of her mind, but her heart ached for him. She wished he could find happiness. She wished he would open up to her about Shelby, but she wasn't holding her breath; he rarely opened up and when he did, it was unplanned. She knew he cared, at least more than he had before Mia came along. He had protected her from a few naysayers when they disagreed with her decision to parent Mia as an only parent. She knew he also had protected Wilson to the best of his ability years earlier, following the bus crash. And she also knew he had protected Mia, and often. He'd saved her life, literally. House was not religious, but Cuddy felt Mia had been his salvation; she was the missing link between House and humanity. He was free to be himself with her, and he protected her best interests at heart from day one. Before day one, really. She loved that man. Cuddy's thoughts reverted to his antics and then to his secrecy regarding the mystery patient named Shelby. She hated him almost as much as she loved him. She hated that he couldn't open up to her, or to anyone else. She hated that he hid behind the wall he put up. She hated that she had pushed him away so many years before.

Cuddy nearly jumped out of her chair when House placed his hands on her shoulders, she gasped in surprise, and her heart raced at the shock of finding him standing in her office, without knowing he was there.

"Off in never, never land?"

"How long have you been standing there?" She asked.

"Long enough to know you're not doing your work."

"I have a headache named Dr. House."

He frowned, "How can I give you a headache if I'm not here?"

"Your headache giving powers transcend science as we know it."

House walked around to the front of her desk and sat down, spinning a red lollipop in his mouth and fiddling with the paperclips on her desk.

"What do you want, House?" House shrugged.

"Have you apologized to him yet?"

He looked up sharply, "Did Jimmy tattle?"

Cuddy sighed, "Jimmy looked exhausted. He wouldn't tell me what you did, but whatever it was, it's left him worn out. I haven't seen him looking like that since…" She paused, realizing that she hadn't seen Wilson look so lonely since he'd lost Amber. She closed her eyes, "Oh you didn't. Please tell me you didn't bring up Amber."

House chewed the end of the lollipop stick, "Greg was a bad boy, wasn't he?" House smirked, "Maybe Greg needs to be punished by his mommy."

Cuddy shook her head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction in knowing that she'd already arranged for Mia to spend the night with Wilson. "You owe your friend an apology."

"My friend's a big boy."

"Your friend has, for the first time, shown interest in a woman and he's afraid to do anything about it."

House looked at her somewhat confused. He'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he admittedly, hadn't paid much attention to Wilson lately. "Who?"

"You don't know?"

"Not Shelby?"

"What do you think?"

House shook his head, speechless. Unable to find any smart retort, simultaneously trying to sort things out in his own mind, House left Cuddy to sit at her desk, alone.

* * *

Mia ran up the stairs, Cuddy unable to keep her still long enough to wait for the elevator. She bolted through House's office, to find him sitting at his desk, glasses on, deep in some paperwork.

"Uncle House!" Mia shouted as she entered his office.

House looked up with a start, removed his glasses and rolled his eyes as if he was annoyed to see her.

Without giving him a chance to argue, she shouted, "No one's looking, I checked!" and she ran into his arms. House sat there motionless, not expecting Mia to rush into his office as she just had. Taking a quick look around, he finally hugged back.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"I love my new school!"

House smiled smugly, knowing he could taunt Cuddy with this information, "I picked the school didn't I?"

Mia smiled and nodded vigorously, "And you know what else?"

He couldn't help but smile at her excitement, "What?"

"I'm spending the night at Uncle Jimmy's tonight!"

House raised both his eyebrows, knowing she only spent the night at Wilson's for one reason. His smile broadened. Before he could say anything more, Cuddy appeared at his door, out of breath.

"Mia, I don't want you running through this hospital."

She turned to look at her mom, "But I wanted to tell Uncle House about my school. Look," she said, pulling a few plastic counting materials from her backpack. "They're base ten blocks. See, the small ones are ones, these are tens, and there are ten small ones in the tens and ten tens in these bigger blocks that make one hundred. It's for place value." Mia was so excited, she was rambling and talking a mile-a-minute.

House looked down at the materials approvingly, "Finally, a school that actually teaches something, not just cut and paste." He looked up at Cuddy, "So, what's this I hear about Mia spending the night at Wilson's?" he asked with a coy smile.

"Mia, sweetie, here," Cuddy handed Mia two twenty dollar bills, "Give these to Uncle Jimmy and tell them they're for pizza. And don't forget to take this." Cuddy handed her a small child's suitcase.

Mia set them down and rushed into her arms, "Is Uncle Jimmy taking me to school tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"Goody!"

"Love you, Mommy."

"Love you, too." Cuddy said.

Mia turned towards House and he shook his head, "Uh-uh. You've had your hug for the day.

Mia turned out her bottom lip, and gave him her trademark puppy-dog look. House rolled his eyes, "Why Jimmy, you're suddenly much younger than you used to be."

Cuddy chuckled and before House could protest further, Mia rushed into his arms, hugging tight. "I love you too, Uncle House."

House frowned as he caught Cuddy's eye. He turned his chair to face the window, lifting Mia in an embrace as they swiveled so that the back of the chair faced Cuddy. And as he held her, he leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. Mia looked up at him and smiled genuinely, and for a fleeting moment, he smiled back.

As House turned the chair to face Cuddy again, he said, "Show Uncle Jimmy how to count with the base ten blocks, he's horrible in math. Can't even count to ten most days."

Mia rolled her eyes, "Uncle House!"

Cuddy placed her hand on Mia's back and guided her towards the hallway. She watched as Mia walked to Wilson's office and once she was safely inside, she returned to House's office.

"So, when do we leave Partypants?" House said, standing from his desk and walking over to her, so that he towered imposingly above her.

"I didn't send her to Wilson's so you could sleep in my bed."

"Wanna bet?"

Cuddy shook her head, knowing it was going to be a long night, and not because of what House was hoping for. She hated to lure him under false pretenses, but she was determined to find out who Shelby was and if she was someone Cuddy needed to worry about. As much as she knew he wasn't hers, she couldn't help but feel protective, if not possessive of House.


	9. Chapter 9

House removed his motorcycle helmet and raised his fist to knock on Cuddy's front door; before he could rap his knuckles on the wood however, Cuddy opened the door and ushered him inside.

He looked around the living room briefly before turning to face her, "So, you're not planning on wearing clothes all night, are you?"

She sighed, picked up his hand and led him to the kitchen where she had pizza and beer waiting. House smiled approvingly and shoved a piece of pizza into his mouth before he even sat down.

"Do you want beer, or a little of this?" she said with a smile, holding up a bottle of Maker's Mark.

He smiled slyly, "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Cuddy feigned innocence, "If I wanted to get you drunk, I wouldn't have offered you pizza."

House raised his eyebrows, studying her for a minute. After chewing on his bottom lip he broke the silence, "I'm not getting any tonight, am I?"

She frowned, "I'm not a booty call." House stood from the table and headed towards the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Oh come on, House. You used to talk to me. Don't shut me out."

He sighed as he limped through the living room, not dignifying her with a response. As he reached the front door, the phone rang.

"Wait, just wait until I answer this. Please."

He rolled his eyes but did not move from where he was standing. House couldn't see Cuddy as she answered the phone, but he heard the unmistakable sharp intake of breath, a few choking sobs and then it happened. It hadn't happened in several years. Cuddy began to hyperventilate and knowing what would come next, he walked towards the living room, hoping the phone call was not about Mia.

Cuddy faced the fireplace, her back towards House. She was visibly trembling and hyperventilating and seconds later, she held her breath.

"Hey, hey, hey, Cuddy, no. Don't hold your breath," House reached her side and placed two fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at him, "You haven't fainted in three years, don't start now."

Cuddy's stare was vacant, her mind elsewhere. House took the phone from her hand and placed it to his ear saying, "Whoever this is, don't call back."

She inhaled again, tears streaming down her face, "House! That was my sister!"

"Nice sister, does she only call when she wants to make you cry?"

Cuddy covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head, unable to keep the tears from falling, "My mother died."

House exhaled and tilted his head back as he closed his eyes. He was most certainly not expecting to hear those words.

She turned away from him, facing the fireplace to avoid his stare, "You should go."

He felt guilty about leaving; it was an emotion he hated to admit, and even more so, hated to act upon. He placed his hand on her shoulder, "Come here."

She shrugged out of his hand, shaking her head, "Just go."

"Cuddy."

"I can't deal with this tonight, not now."

House stood there in silence, listening to her cry, not knowing if he should stay or go. He reached a hand out towards her shoulder, but then pulled it back before he could touch her. She'd rejected him once already and he thought she would just get upset further if he tried again.

To his surprise, she turned around to face him, one hand still covering her mouth. She shook her head and took two steps towards him, reaching her arms around him, and like countless times in the past, he allowed her to hug him, saying nothing, not a snark or retort, or vicious lashing of the tongue. House simply held her.

* * *

She had finally fallen asleep, the stress of the evening winning out. House knew he wasn't going anywhere; he sat on the couch, flipped the television on, placed it on mute and dialed Wilson.

"House?" A groggy voice answered. "Is everything okay?"

"Cuddy's mom died."

House could hear Wilson breathe deeply, processing the information, "Is she okay?"

He cocked an eyebrow, "What do you think?"

"She needs you, House. Don't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, thanks for the advice. To quote Forrest Gump, 'Stupid is as stupid does.' I'm not stupid, Wilson."

Wilson sighed, "You know what I mean. Where is she now?"

"Asleep."

"Good. I imagine the funeral's this weekend?"

House raised his eyebrows, "I don't know, she didn't say."

"Well, tell her I can watch Mia if she doesn't want to take her to the funeral."

"I am capable of watching a five year old," House said defensively.

Wilson sighed, "I thought you might want to go with her to the funeral."

"Right, because I'm so the touchy-lovey-comforting type."

"She needs you, House."

"And I need a drink. See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

* * *

He stood at Cuddy's bedroom door, watching her sleep, unconsciously checking her breathing rate to be sure she was okay. Somehow his night of potential fun went from bad to worse with the recent turn of events, and now he stood rooted to the spot struggling with what he should do. He almost wished Cuddy had reason to berate him about Shelby, instead of dealing with the death of her mother.

He finally pushed any thoughts of vanishing out of his mind and he entered the bedroom, convincing himself that he was there merely to make sure she was medically okay given her history with high blood pressure and fainting. He sat down on the bed, took his shoes off and reached for her wrist to check her pulse. Satisfied she was okay, he crawled into bed and stretched out beside her, more exhausted than he had realized. Not waking fully, she turned to face him, burying her head into his shoulder and House sighed, frowned, and finally placed an arm around her, drawing her in close, all the while thinking that Wilson was really starting to get on his nerves.

* * *

Around three in the morning, House woke to a shaking Cuddy, still wrapped in his arms, lying together in her bed. She'd fallen into a deep sleep shortly after he joined her in bed, but she was now sobbing again, causing the bed to shake.

"Hey," he whispered.

Cuddy wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight, "I can't believe she's gone."

Not knowing what to say, he simply held her, waiting for her to choose the direction of her thoughts.

She managed to gain control of her sobbing cries, saying, "We didn't always get along but it was nice to know she was there. You know, when you're a kid, you don't really think about it much. You have grandparents and parents and it's just the way it is. And then the grandparents pass on and you become aware of death, but it still seems so far off. And now with her gone, she was the last one left in that barrier between death and my life. Now I'm the next in line. There is no barrier left. I'm the barrier now between death and Mia." Cuddy paused, looking up into his eyes, "When did we become old?"

"The day we lost our innocence," he said quietly.

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "I don't think losing one's virginity is the day we become old."

"Not what I meant."

She looked at him in the pale moon light, finding it difficult to make out his expression, "Tell me."

"It's that moment when you stop being young; for some, it's an illness, others, it's something some one said or did."

Somewhat stunned by his honesty, she hoped he would continue, "When did you lose your innocence?"

House placed one finger on her lips, "Shhh. Go to sleep."

"I can't."

"I'm tired."

"When I close my eyes, I see my mother. I don't want to close my eyes yet. Talk to me, like you used to."

He sighed, traced the outline of her face with his thumb and watched her for a while, hoping she would fall asleep. Cuddy's eyelids would begin to droop and he would allow his own lids to shut, but she'd nudge him with her toe or tap his shoulder, letting him know she wasn't going back to sleep.

Eventually, he very quietly said, "I was sixteen."

House shifted in the bed, trying to become more comfortable. His arm, the one under her shoulder, had fallen asleep and he had a knot in his hip from lying in such an awkward position.

Cuddy rubbed his stubbly chin with her own thumb, amazed and appreciative that he was being so open with her, "What happened?"

"I was at a new school, in music class, when I met a girl. She seemed vaguely familiar, but we'd never met."

As he spoke, Cuddy nestled into his shoulder, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. "She was cute, so I asked her out and on our first date, my dad insisted I be home by eleven. Sixteen years old, I could drive and I had to be home by eleven, it was an embarrassment. I complained about how unreasonable he was," House laughed a short, angry laugh at the absurdity of his simplicity then, "And she told me I was lucky to have a dad."

To her dismay, House pulled away and stood from the bed, picking his cane up from the floor.

"Where are you going? I don't want to be alo..."

House limped towards the door, interuppting her, "I need a drink. You?"

She shook her head.

He returned ten minutes later, two glasses of bourbon whiskey in hand. He held one up, offering it to her. She refused. He crawled back into bed, sitting up with his back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and Cuddy wondered how much he'd already had to drink. He downed one of the two glasses as she snuggled into his side. House rested an arm around her shoulders and she chose to remain silent, hoping he would continue his story. She knew if she pushed, he wouldn't say a word.

House held the second glass and sipped at it, pondering how much he really wanted to tell her. Throwing caution to the wind, and with a fair amount of bourbon in his belly, he said, "We got to talking about our families, and her mom was a single parent. She had a picture of her dad and she pulled it out to show me and in that moment, I lost my innocence."

Cuddy was curious where House was going with the information, sure he would say something about how her dad had some awful illness, or had died in a war or a tragic car accident, or at the very worst that her father had abused her in some way. But what he said caused Cuddy to hold House just a bit tighter.

"She showed me a picture of my dad."

She opened her eyes, and looked up into his eyes, "Wait, _your_ dad?"

House nodded.

Cuddy closed her eyes briefly, "Shelby."

He sighed deeply, and downed the second glass as the wee hour of the morning began inching its way into his exhaustion. He confirmed her guess, "Shelby."

She placed a hand on his ear and used her thumb to draw small circles near the corner of his eye, closest to his hairline. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I haven't seen her in over thirty years."

She ran her thumb down his cheek and rested it on his lips before she gently kissed him. Once again, tears streaked down her face, though this time they were for him.

* * *

They spent the night in one another's embrace, sleeping more deeply than they had in recent memory, and come morning, neither wanted to get out of bed. Granted, House was hung over and likely slept like a baby due to the bourbon, but waking up next to Cuddy was as pleasant a way to wake with a hangover as was possible. Memories of their intense relationship nearly six years prior came rushing back, and both House and Cuddy remembered what it was like to feel needed.

She looked at him, hoping he would be the House of old, the one who she had fallen in love with so long ago, "I was hoping you'd come to the funeral."

House nodded.

She placed both her hands on either side of his face and pulled him in close, "I never stopped loving you. You know that, right?"

He closed his eyes, breathing in the remnants of her perfume and nodded. She kissed him hard on the mouth, like she had longed to do for months, years even, and then she smiled a smirky smile.

"You have clinic duty in half an hour. Don't be late."


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for reading and reviewing! And as always, my betas rock: chippers87 & wrytingtyme.

Chapter 10

His stomach still on fire, House lifted his head from the trash can and found Wilson standing beside his desk.

"You're hung over," he said with a frown.

"Good to know your psychic ability hasn't left you."

"So you left Cuddy alone after she found out her mother died to get drunk?"

House rolled his eyes, "I never left her place. Your guilt trip invaded my conscience last night."

"So you got drunk at her place? Did you get her drunk too?"

"Nope. Not what you're thinking either. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a total ass _all_ the time." He dry heaved into the trash again as Wilson grimaced. House lifted his head to look at his friend, "Are you watching the rugrat this weekend?"

"Are you going to the funeral with Cuddy?"

House shrugged as Cuddy appeared at his doorway. She walked over to his desk, smiling at Wilson as she passed him and placed a package of saltine crackers and a can of ginger ale on his desk.

"I thought you might need these," she said looking at him sympathetically. House nodded in gratitude.

Cuddy turned her attention towards Wilson, and as she began to ask him if he would watch Mia for the weekend, Wilson embraced her saying, "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Cuddy's eyes filled with tears as she nodded, "How was Mia this morning?"

"Just fine, I think her newest favorite movie is Toy Story," Wilson paused, lowering his voice just a bit, "I didn't tell her about your mom."

"I appreciate that, thank you."

"What did she passed away from?"

She sat in the chair opposite House, looking more tired than usual, "A brain aneurism. She was gone before the ambulance got to the hospital."

House rubbed his thumb across his forehead as Wilson looked between the two of them, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"I'll take you up on that offer. Would you mind watching Mia this weekend?" Cuddy asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not at all."

"Thank you."

Wilson nodded and turned his attention towards House, "I'm passing Shelby's case over to Dr. Rogerstein today. I thought you'd like to know."

House stared into Cuddy's eyes, and she wondered if she detected a hint of fear there. He shook his head slightly, and Cuddy knew he wasn't ready to share his secret with Wilson just yet.

House couldn't bring himself to look at Wilson, focusing on his own hands instead, "Why?"

"I…"

House wouldn't let him finish, "Shelby needs the best. Rogerstein isn't good enough."

Wilson watched as House and Cuddy exchanged glances; he was simultaneously amazed by House's subtle compliment indicating that he was the best oncologist while at the same time disheartened that he had confided his secret in Cuddy and not himself.

"He told you, didn't he?" he asked Cuddy.

She looked at him apologetically and nodded.

He turned his attention back to House, "So, are you going to share?"

House set his jaw and shook his head, "Not yet."

"Rogerstein is an excellent doctor."

House pursed his lips, "You didn't answer my question. Why?"

Wilson eyed his friend, "I'm not sure I can be objective."

House nodded, though Wilson was unsure if it was a nod of understanding or quiet contemplation. His mood was unreadable, leaving Wilson confused.

Unable to deal with the tension in the room in addition to the news she had received the night prior, Cuddy rose from her chair, gave a quick wave to the boys, and headed towards her office.

Wilson looked at House and shook his head, "I guess I'll see you later, House."

"I meant it."

He turned to look at the diagnostician, shaking his head, unsure of what House was getting at.

"Shelby deserves the best."

Wilson smiled, "Was that a compliment, House?"

He smiled wryly, "Never."

Wilson walked back to his office knowing two things; one, he had received his apology and two, House would eventually tell him who Shelby was.

* * *

House ducked his head into Shelby's room and found her sleeping; he picked up her chart and tried to focus on the contents of it but found himself thinking about the past.

"_You're a hypocrite!"_

"_Watch you mouth, son. That was a long time ago. Your mother forgave me for the affair, so should you. You have no idea what love is."_

"_Is it any surprise with you for a father?"_

_That last remark was all it took for John House to grab Greg by the arm, manhandling him through the front door._

_John locked the door and through it, Greg heard him yell, "Well, since I'm such a cold hearted hypocrite, go find your own damned roof to sleep under. Wouldn't want to make a liar out of you."_

Bringing his attention back to the present, House found Shelby staring at him from her bed. He tried to focus on her chart but again found his mind wandering.

"Are you seeing Wilson?"

Shelby blushed, "He's charming, but no. Not yet. He doesn't want to get into a relationship until he's talked to you. He doesn't want to break your trust."

"Does he know?"

"I haven't said anything."

"Once he finds out we share the same genes, he might think twice."

That made her chuckle, though that little bit of exertion tired her out, "He's a good man, isn't he?"

House stood from his chair, intending to leave her to rest. House nodded, "Don't break him; he can't handle it."

"So does that mean I have your permission?"

"Since when do you need my permission?" House asked from the doorway.

"He's your best friend and I wouldn't want to jeopardize that. I don't know what you've done to earn his friendship, but it's obvious how much he cares about you. He's walking on eggshells, afraid of how you will react."

Ignoring her words, he changed the subject, "I won't be here this weekend."

"James told me. Are the two of you serious?"

"Her mother died."

"Oh come on Greg, you don't go to funerals unless you have a reason. You refused to go to Oma's. You love her, don't you?"

House shrugged, "Depends on what position the moon's in."

"So you love her but your head gets in the way."

He smirked, "You never change, do you?"

She smiled back at him, "Ditto."

"I'll see you Monday. Don't die while I'm gone."

* * *

Cuddy walked into PPTH in the late afternoon, carrying a very melancholy, tear stained Mia. She walked into her office to find Wilson waiting for her.

"Hi," he said, instantly donning a worried expression upon seeing Mia, "What's up peanut?'

Mia turned her face away from him, burying her nose into Cuddy's neck, while sticking her thumb in her mouth.

Cuddy looked up at Wilson and shook her head, "Can I meet you in your office in about ten minutes? She's had a hard day."

"Sure, everything okay?"

She gave him a tilt of her head, indicating that things weren't okay, though not dire either.

"Sure, I'll head up there now. When you're ready."

"Thanks."

Cuddy grabbed a granola bar and a juice box from a drawer, as she continued to carry Mia; she then made her way to the fourth floor. She walked past Wilson's office and headed into the diagnostics conference room where she waited patiently for House to finish making arrangements with his team.

He looked up at her, "Not ready yet, give me ten minutes."

"Can I leave Mia here while I speak with Wilson?"

House furrowed his brow and looked at Mia, "What's wrong with the rugrat?"

Cuddy shrugged her shoulders, "She won't tell me. Bad day at school, I guess."

"She can wait in my office while we finish up here."

Cuddy settled Mia into the big chair in House's office and handed her the juice box and granola bar. "Stay here sweetie, Uncle House will be here soon. I'm just going to talk with Uncle Jimmy for a minute, okay?"

Mia shook her head, "Nooo. Don't go, Mommy."

"Honey, it'll only be for a minute. Look," Cuddy said, pointing through the glass door at House, "Uncle House is right there."

Mia choked back the sniffles, "I don't want you to go. Can I come with you?"

"Not right now, sweetie. I'll be right back, okay?" Mia nodded reluctantly.

* * *

As Cuddy was in with Wilson talking about Mia's routine for the weekend away from home, Mia sat trying her best to console herself in House's office. As much as she tried, she couldn't help the tears that began to flow as she read the note she had brought home from school. The longer she stared at it, the more upset she became, and shortly before House walked into his office, Mia was sobbing uncontrollably.

* * *

"And what if that doesn't work?" Foreman asked.

"You have a brain, use it. And when that fails, I do have a cell phone," House said sarcastically.

"That would be great if you'd actually charge it."

"Dial Cuddy's then."

Foreman glanced at House's office and saw Mia in the midst of a near hysterical fit. Motioning with his chin he said, "What's with her?"

House looked over towards his office and shook his head, "Dammit, if she doesn't stop, her heart'll act up." He handed the patient file to Foreman, "Here, just try not to kill anyone while I'm gone and don't let Kutner anywhere near the whiteboard, not after the last time; damned hearts all over the place."

Foreman chuckled, nodding in agreement as House headed towards his office.

* * *

He loomed over her as he leaned on his cane, "I don't allow cry babies into my office."

She sputtered a bit and choked back a sob, "I'm not a cry baby."

"What do you call this?" he asked, shooing her to the side of his chair. He sat down next to her, helping her to sit on his good leg.

"I don't have a daddy."

House rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Neither do I."

Mia paused, looking at him in bewilderment, "You don't have a daddy?"

"Not anymore," he looked at her, wondering where all of this was stemming from, "Why are you worried about it now?"

Mia tucked in her bottom lip and inhaled sharply, trying to keep herself from crying again, "There's a…" sputter, choke, sob, sob, "A daddy-daughter," again with a sputter, "Lunch at school next week." And then the floodgates opened and Mia cried out-loud, "And I don't have a daddy to take me to lunch."

House picked her up and sat her on his lap so that she was facing him, allowing her to place her head on his shoulder and he rolled his eyes as he held her, rubbing her back. He kept himself from laughing at himself, wondering if he was going soft; first Cuddy the night before and now Mia, crying on his shoulder.

He said nothing to her, no words of comfort, though he didn't try and talk her out of her tears either. He just held her and allowed her to cry. His office phone rang, but given he couldn't stand while holding Mia, and Mia was in no position to be put down yet, he let the phone ring, figuring whoever it was would call back. House slipped the paper from Mia's fingertips and read what it said, "Third annual Daddy-Daughter Day, Tuesday at noon in the cafeteria. All fathers, brothers, uncles, guardians and family friends are welcomed. Lunch will be provided."

House shook his head, "I'm sure Uncle Jimmy will take you."

Still crying, though not as forcefully, she said, "But he's not my daddy."

"The paper says it doesn't have to be a daddy. Uncles can go too."

"I don't want Uncle Jimmy. I don't wanna go to school on Daddy-Daughter Day."

"You have to go to school," he said a little too harshly, growing weary of the crying child.

A fresh wave of crying began, and Mia hit his shoulder, "I'm not going and you can't make me."

"Watch me."

"You can't. You're not my daddy."

His lips formed into a thin line, his brow furrowed, "Don't talk to me that way, Smiagle."

"My name's not Smiagle!"

"Look at me."

"No."

"Look. At. Me."

"No."

House could feel her heart speed up as she continued to hug him with her head on his chest. "Listen, if you don't calm down, your heart's going to do flip flops. Do you want that?"

"I don't care."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't!"

"Okay," House said, standing up and placing her down on the ground, "I've had enough."

Just as House was about to call Wilson to yell at Cuddy to get her ass back in his office, she appeared at the door, shocked at the scene before her. Mia was nearly in hysterics, even more so after House had set her down on her own two feet. House looked like he was ready to kill and it was all Cuddy could do to keep her emotions in check.

"What is going on here?" she hollered, stepping into his office with Wilson following closely behind. "Is this the reason you didn't answer my phone call? What did you do to her, House?" She kneeled down beside Mia, trying to hug her. Mia wanted nothing of it and flailed her arms about, throwing a tantrum.

House motioned towards Wilson, "Gimme your ears."

Wilson handed his stethoscope over and House immediately put them into his ears and with some effort, got down onto one knee. "I'm going to listen to your heart and you _are_ going to be quiet. Understood?"

Mia shook her head defiantly.

"Mia Rose, what has gotten into you today?" Cuddy asked, exasperated.

House passed the flier to Cuddy, "She's upset she doesn't have a daddy," he said shaking his head, obviously annoyed. Cuddy read the flier and stared at the ceiling, finally understanding what the commotion was about.

House placed the stethoscope to Mia's chest and tried to listen amidst her crying. He looked her in the eye, tired of her antics. "Stop!" he shouted only inches from her face.

Mia held her breath. He'd never done that before.

"Do you trust me?"

She hesitantly nodded.

"Do you really want your heart to do flip flops?"

She shook her head.

"Breathe deeply while I listen to your heart."

Mia complied and House was finally able to listen to her heart, and relaxed a bit when he heard a normal rhythm. He looked up at Cuddy, "She's fine." Standing from his position next to Mia, he glared at Cuddy, "I didn't _do_ anything."

He stormed out of his office, leaving Cuddy staring after him with a confused look on her face and Mia began to cry again.

Wilson looked at her briefly, "I'll go talk to him." Cuddy nodded, as she focused on getting Mia to calm down.

A/N: Mia's tantrum was inspired by my own daughter's lovely tantrum that she threw the morning I wrote this.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks for reading and reviewing! And thanks to my awesome betas, who are fast and who help more than they know: chippers87 & wrytingtyme.

Chapter 11

Wilson found House sitting in his own office, his head resting on his hand, his hand on his cane, rubbing his right thigh as he sat on the couch. Wilson sat next to him on the couch, stretched and exhaled.

"Wonder what she'll be like when she hits puberty."

"If she's anything like her mother, there'll be hell to pay," House said with a smirk.

The two chuckled momentarily before Wilson stood, "I think I'm in for a long weekend."

"That makes two of us."

"So, are you taking her to the lunch next week, or am I?"

"I'm not taking her," House said somewhat alarmed.

Wilson inhaled deeply, "I'm not the one she wants."

"And I'm not the daddy type."

"You don't have to go as her daddy. Go as her uncle."

"I'm not her uncle either."

"House, that child worships the ground you walk on."

"She's an idiot."

Wilson shook his head, "For loving you? You're the idiot if you can't see how much you mean to her."

Not wanting to further the conversation, House slowly stood, and made his way to the door. He turned back, weighing his words heavily. He fidgeted some, tossed the idea back and forth a bit and finally decided to just say it.

"Shelby's my half-sister."

Wilson opened his mouth but found he wasn't sure what to say at the surprising news. Instead, he simply nodded.

House turned to walk out the door and without looking back he said, "Why you'd want to date someone on her death bed is beyond me."

"You're okay with that?"

House shrugged, "I'm not her keeper," he said as he let the door close behind him. Wilson smiled, grateful for his cryptic permission.

* * *

Cuddy dabbed a wet paper towel at her daughter's eyes; Mia was perched on the conference room table, exhausted from her temper tantrum and finally calm enough to breathe normally. Cuddy quietly soothed her daughter, saying little, humming gently in an effort to comfort Mia.

"Feeling better?"

Mia nodded, "I don't remember Nana."

"That's because you haven't seen her since you were two."

"But you're sad, right?"

"I am. I'm very sad."

"You promise you'll be back on Sunday?"

"I promise."

"Is Uncle House going with you?"

"Yes." Cuddy tried to change the subject, hoping to divert Mia's attention, "I'm sure Uncle Jimmy would love to take you to the Daddy-Daughter lunch next week."

"I don't want Uncle Jimmy."

Cuddy sighed, "Honey, we've been over this. It's okay that you don't have a daddy. I love you more than anyone one else on the planet and both Uncle Jimmy and Uncle House love you too."

"I don't want Uncle Jimmy to take me. I want Uncle House."

"Oh," Cuddy said, surprised by her response, "Well, we can talk to him. Maybe he'll take you." Mia smiled as she hugged her mom.

"Mia, why do you love Uncle House so much?"

Mia pulled back from her mom to look her in the eye, and very simply said, "I pretend he's my daddy." She played with her shoelaces as a slight smile touched the corners of her mouth, "He's the one who used to check my closet for monsters." Again she looked up at Cuddy and shrugged her shoulders, "He makes me feel safe."

Cuddy's eyes brimmed with tears and in that moment, she knew she had made the right choice in asking House to legally adopt Mia; she only hoped he would come to feel the same way.

"You're not afraid of monsters in your closet anymore."

Mia smiled furtively, "I know." Cuddy gave her a knowing look.

Startling both Cuddy and Mia, House's booming voice could be heard from the hall, "Have the waterworks stopped?"

"It's safe, you can come in now," Cuddy called out to him. She looked at Mia, "I think you have something to say to Uncle House."

Mia sighed and pursed her lips, not unlike the way a certain uncle of hers did.

"I'll be in Wilson's office," Cuddy said, leaving the two in the conference room.

House sat down next to Mia and he eyed her, "Tantrum over?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"No flip-flops?"

"No."

"Wilson's waiting for you."

House stood from his chair, and Mia mimicked him by standing on the table next to him. He still towered over her.

"Uncle House?"

"Hmmm?"

"Will you come to Daddy-Daughter Day? I know you're not my daddy but the paper says uncles can come too."

He rolled his eyes, "Smiagle…"

"Please? You can even call me Smiagle if you want," she began to ramble, "And I'm sorry for yelling at you today. It's just for one day, and I wouldn't tell anyone you're my daddy. I just want to make believe in my mind; I know you're not my daddy for real, but sometimes I like to pretend."

House pursed his lips, just as she had moments earlier. The last thing he wanted to do was to attend a school function with a hundred runny nosed brats running around with their arrogant fathers; men who had succeeded at finding the one woman who would bear his children. It was a world in which House was completely unfamiliar with; a world he'd never had any interest in, and still didn't.

She saw the look of resistance on his face and went in for the kill, "Didn't you ever wish you had something the other kids had that you didn't?"

He tipped his chin down as he sighed, "Mia…"

"I wish I had a daddy."

Knowing he'd regret it, he said, "Only if Wilson goes too." He figured if he had to endure a lunch of absolute torture, Wilson may as well be along for the likely gut wrenchingingly horrid cafeteria lunch, too.

Mia was slightly disappointed that she wouldn't get him all to herself but it was better than if he'd said no, so she nodded in agreement. She threw her arms around his neck and he lowered her to the floor. House was not oblivious to the extra skip in her step.

* * *

She tore into Wilson's office, "Mommy, Mommy!"

Cuddy brightened upon seeing Mia's greatly improved mood, "What?"

"Uncle House said he'd go to Daddy-Daughter Day!"

House stood behind her at the office door, "Only if Jimmy here agrees to go along."

Mia looked expectantly at Wilson and he nodded. "Yippeeee!" she shouted.

Cuddy ran her hand under Mia's chin, "You are exactly what I needed before this weekend."

"Save it for the chick flick movies you cry at," House said flippantly, "We need to go before rush hour."

Cuddy picked up her jacket, "Nice, House."

Cuddy said her goodbyes to Mia and Wilson, House waved casually and the pair headed towards the elevators, leaving a tearful Mia behind.

* * *

The drive into New York had been a quiet one as Cuddy focused on the road while House slept nearly the whole way. She didn't mind though, as it gave her the chance to think about a lot of things, including the conversation she'd had with Mia. Cuddy couldn't help but look over at House once in a while, smiling at how innocent he looked when he was asleep. Her mind wandered, wondering what his home life had been like. Wondering what had happened in his youth that caused him to build such high walls, walls that were nearly impenetrable.

Cuddy dropped House off at the entrance to the hotel, and circled around towards the back in search of a parking spot. She pulled her rolling suitcase with his duffle bag on top into the lobby and found him waiting for her in one of the large sofas nearest the elevators. He pressed the number seven inside the elevator; as they exited the elevator, House handed Cuddy her room key, having checked them in as she parked the car.

"What room number?"

"Seven sixteen."

Exhausted, she said, "I'll see you in the morning?"

House nodded as Cuddy entered her room. She placed her bag in the far corner and turned around to head towards the bathroom, gasping in surprise as she nearly ran into House.

"What are you doing?"

"My key says seven sixteen too."

"I booked two rooms."

"I told them we only needed one."

"House."

"Cuddy."

She was so mentally tired, she nearly cried on the spot. "I can't deal with you right now, it's just too much."

"You asked me to be here."

"Here, as in at the funeral. Not here, as in my room."

"There are two beds, two people. Half the cost if we share. I won't make a peep."

Cuddy sat on the bed and looked up at him, laughing almost hysterically, not because she found the situation funny, but instead at the absurdity of it all. She reminded herself that she should not be at all surprised by the audacity of his antics.

"One peep and you're out."

"Right." House put his feet up on his bed, leaned back and decided to push her just a bit further, "I've got a mega pack of condoms in the outside pocket of my bag."

She flopped backwards onto her bed with a sigh, "House!"

"I'm starving, you?"

"No, go ahead."

House watched her from the corner of his eye, not willing to admit to her the real reason he canceled the second room. He allowed her to think whatever she wanted to, but he wasn't about to let her out of his sight, not after her near fainting spell the other night. He knew her blood pressure was higher than normal, regardless of her meds, and he intended to keep an eye on her whether she wanted him to or not.

"I'm going to take a bath," she said, unzipping her suitcase.

He smirked, "Can I join you?"

"In your dreams."

"I can daydream."

"Dream on."

"A dream is a wish your heart makes."

"When you're fast asleep," Cuddy giggled, "You did not just quote Cinderella."

House shrugged, "Rugrat made me watch it."

"When?"

"Two weeks ago."

"And how much of that song do you remember?"

"All of it."

"You're kidding."

"Wanna bet?"

Cuddy stared at him, unsure if he was telling the truth, "What do I get if I win?"

"Peace and quiet tonight and my best behavior at the funeral."

"And what do you get if you win?"

House smiled deviously, "You."

Cuddy tilted her head to the side, "I told you, I'm not a booty call."

"Maybe I don't want a booty call."

"You always want a booty call."

"Not always."

"So, what do you want then?"

"A little one on one time with the girls," he said, suggestively.

"Forget it."

"Fine, one night in the same bed."

"House!"

"No funny business," he held up three fingers, "Scouts honor."

"You keep your hands to yourself."

House nodded.

"Fine."

House began to sing, "A dream is a wish your heart makes

When you're fast asleep

In dreams you lose your heartaches

Whatever you wish for, you keep

Have faith in your dreams and someday

Your rainbow will come smiling thru

No matter how your heart is grieving

If you keep on believing

the dream that you wish will come true

No matter how your heart is grieving

If you keep on believing

The dream that you wish will come true

So dream..."

Cuddy took her things and headed for the bathroom, and with tears in her eyes, she said, "I hate you."

House smiled, "I know."

* * *

Cuddy stepped out of the bathroom bundled up in her terry robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. Instantly, she smelled the enticing aroma of coffee, and she thought she also smelled garlic. Rounding the corner as she exited the bathroom, she saw the corner table covered in a white table cloth, with a coffee carafe, two covered plates, a single carnation in a small vase, a side of garlic bread and House sitting in one of the two chairs at the table, smiling expectantly.

"What's all this?"

"Dinner."

"House, I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, sit down and eat. I'm starving."

She sat down next to him, poured herself a cup of coffee and inhaled deeply, savoring the smell and the temporary reprieve from the stress of the weekend.

"Headache better?"

Cuddy nodded. She looked at the spread before them and smiled genuinely. Glancing at him, she blinked for a prolonged moment, grateful for his efforts. She peeked under the lid of her plate and her mouth watered at the sight of penne pasta tossed with roasted vegetables, garlic and olive oil. "Thank you."

He shrugged, "Don't thank me. I charged it to the room and it's in your name."

She chuckled, "That's fine. This coffee is worth its weight in gold." Cuddy thought about the day as she looked up at him, "I'm sorry I blamed you this afternoon."

"I would never hurt Mia."

"I know," she watched him for a moment, tempted to ask if he'd made a decision about legally adopting her, but changed her mind. Instead, she said, "She's not afraid of monsters in her closet anymore."

House smirked as his eyes remained fixed on his filet mignon, "I know."

The two ate in relative silence. Cuddy was too tired to talk and House was lost in his own thoughts, though most of them were about her. When they were finished, Cuddy placed the tray outside the door and crawled into bed, beyond exhausted. House was in the adjacent bed, his eyes closed and his breathing becoming deep and patterned. Cuddy propped her elbow up and placed her head into her hand, watching House slowly succumb to sleep. Grateful he was there, and not nearly as disappointed that he was in her room as she thought she should have been, she couldn't repress the smile that slowly spread across her face.

She quietly got out of her bed and crawled into his, wrapping her arm under his, angling her arm up and around so that her hand rested on his shoulder. And for the second time that week, both slept a dreamless sleep.

* * *

House had been on his best behavior during the funeral. Cuddy glanced at him briefly towards the end of the service and gave him a smile of gratitude, thanking him for stifling his snark on her behalf. In truth, he'd allowed his mind to wander elsewhere, delving into his own past with thoughts of Shelby and his father. Mia's words resonated within; he'd most certainly had wished for the kind of father he'd seen other children with. The kind of father who coached little league, or who always seemed to wear a smile; fathers who weren't always so strict, and fathers who didn't think it appropriate to use extreme punishment as a form of discipline. He didn't have many friends growing up, in part because they moved so much and in part because it was easier to pretend others didn't have the picturesque father he so longed for. It was easier to think everyone else was just as miserable as he was. It was easier to think love didn't exist, because if it did, surely he would have experienced it more often from his own father. Tough love didn't quite cut it twenty-four-seven.

He remembered how his dad had insisted he be outside immediately after school, no loitering allowed. If he'd been so much as the third student out of the building, his father would go into a rant about irresponsibility and the importance of promptness. They weren't merely lectures however; his words were always laced with a touch of venom, leaving a painful sting House had learned to swallow at an early age. Be a man. Suck it up. No sissies in this family. Life isn't all sunshine and rainbows.

House wondered if Mia was truly better off without a father and decided if she'd had one like his own dad, then she was certainly better off without one. If she wanted to pretend she had a daddy for one day in her life, he wouldn't be the one to crush that dream. He wouldn't be his own father in that regard. He wouldn't enjoy it, but he could put up with one school lunch if it made her happy, and admittedly, he occasionally wondered what kinds of Daddy-child lunches he might have gone to, had Cuddy's pregnancy come to fruition. Perhaps he'd do a little imagining too, though he wouldn't dare admit that to anyone. It would be easy with Wilson in tow. Wilson could be the one to make-nice with the other fathers, provide conversation, chit-chat. House could simply be there, eat, watch Mia enjoy her moment, observe her at her new school.

He watched Cuddy throughout the service, marveling at how strong she was. Not a single tear danced across her face; she sat stoically, a pillar for her family. She held it together for the entire ceremony and into the reception, only breaking down once they were safely in the car and well on their way back to the hotel. They'd received several glances from people he imagined were her relatives or former neighbors and he wondered what she'd told her family about them. Was she pretending? Did she act as though they were in a relationship? He didn't so much as say 'boo' to anyone during or after the ceremony, keeping up his end of the bet, though he hadn't been the one to lose. He wondered if they knew she'd miscarried his child five years ago. Had she told anyone? He hoped not. That was their little secret. A select few knew at the hospital, but outside of the medical staff who took care of Cuddy, no one else knew about it. It was a link that would connect the pair for all of eternity. Losing a child, unborn or not, permanently etched a vacant patch on a parent's soul; even a curmudgeonly, older snark like himself.

Parent. He'd nearly been a parent. He practically was one to Mia. He almost felt like one on the rare occasion. A parent who looked after her like a parent should; never to scold or punish with humiliation or force, never to belittle or mistreat, never to ignore, well not blatantly anyway. And now Cuddy asked him the one favor he instantly rejected. To adopt Mia Rose Cuddy. His only hesitation lay not with the act of penning his signature on a legal document declaring him her adoptive parent, but rather the desire to be more than just a signature.

For reasons unknown to him, he looked at his one time love and wondered about what could have been. He'd almost had the impossible, what he knew could never be.

* * *

They found themselves again in the hotel room in the early afternoon, both still very quiet. The door shut behind them, House dropped his cane, took her hand in his, and pulled Cuddy into his embrace.

And when they made love that night, it was not out of grief for their miscarried child, not in memory of her mother, not in hatred of his father, not out of misguided desires, bets won, or to rekindle a relationship lost. No, when they made love that night, it was simply an act born out of decades of mutual love.


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks for reading and reviewing (as always). Gotta say it...I had an absolute blast with this chapter. Thanks to my ever amazing betas... chippers87 & wrytingtyme.

Chapter 12

"Eight, nine, ten. Ready or not, here I come!" Wilson turned away from the corner of his living room, and began searching for Mia. "Meeeeeyaaaa, where are you?" He opened cabinet doors and checked in the closets. Wilson poked his head behind the shower curtain and looked behind the couch, all the while calling Mia's name.

She wasn't usually so difficult to find and becoming just a bit nervous at her whereabouts, he called out, "Mia, I give up. Come out, come out wherever you are. You win. You're the queen of hide and seek!"

Not hearing a single peep from her, he checked the garage and found her sitting on an empty milk crate, fist full of old photos.

"What have you got there, squirt?"

"Is this Uncle House?" she asked, looking a bit confused as she held up a dated picture.

Wilson nodded, "It is."

"Where's his cane?"

"He didn't walk with one then."

Mia furrowed her brow, "I thought he always had one."

Smiling, though somewhat confused by her remark, Wilson sat down next to her on an old cooler, "Mia, of course he hasn't always had one."

"Well, why does he walk with a cane?"

"He hurt his leg a long time ago."

"Oh," she continued to look a bit confused, "I just thought he always had a cane."

Wilson marveled at her innocence. She'd never known House to walk without a cane, nor had she seen photos of him before the infarction. House certainly didn't have any pictures of himself lying around, neither did Cuddy. In Mia's mind, the cane was just a part of him; a constant, normal.

Mia reached her arms around Wilson's neck from behind and he gave her a piggy-back ride into the kitchen, "Does his leg hurt now?"

Wilson sighed; she was innocent and simultaneously astute. "Sometimes."

"I wish he didn't hurt."

Wilson held up a package of ham and a package of turkey and she pointed to the turkey. "Me too, Mia. Do you want mustard?"

"Eeew, icky."

"Pickles?"

"I love pickles!"

Wilson smiled, "Potato chips or corn chips?"

"Potato chips. When will Mommy be home?"

"Soon; they hit bad traffic on the way home. Should we make sandwiches for them, too?"

Mia nodded vigorously, "But Mommy doesn't eat meat."

"I've got hummus in the fridge, will you hand it to me?"

As Mia reached for the hummus, she smiled deviously, "We could put pickles on Uncle House's sandwich."

Wilson chuckled, "He hates pickles."

She smiled brightly, "I know."

Just then the door bell rang and Mia shrieked in delight, practically threw the container of hummus at Wilson and took off running for the front door as Wilson laughed out loud at her excitement.

He set everything on the counter and followed Mia; she opened the door shrieked a high pierced sound of pure joy, causing everyone else to cringe in pain, and then jumped into her mother's arms. House strolled by the hugging pair, nodded briefly in greeting at Wilson and promptly sat in the recliner and put his feet up, massaging his right leg.

Wilson looked questioningly at Cuddy and she whispered, "He insisted on driving when we left; three hours stuck in traffic was hard on him." Wilson nodded in understanding.

"We made lunch!" Mia exclaimed before wriggling out of her mother's arms. She ran towards House, "Uncle House! Do you know what we did yesterday?"

"Not now, Mia," House said with eyes closed.

His words didn't stop her, "Uncle Jimmy bought me twenty new books at the new bookstore near the park! And then we went to the zoo and after that we watched two movies! And we had my favorite dinner, tacos, but not with the icky beans. And do you know what…"

"MIA!" House shouted, unable to tolerate a single sound more.

Wilson stepped up behind Mia and placed his hand on her back, guiding her towards the kitchen, "It's okay; remember what we talked about this morning, about how sometimes his leg hurts?"

A tearful Mia nodded.

"Well, his leg hurts a lot right now."

As they entered the kitchen, Cuddy met them with a glass of water and a bottle of vicodin, "What's wrong sweetie?" she asked her daughter.

Mia shrugged, "Uncle House hurts."

Cuddy glanced at Wilson and he shook his head.

"Mia, honey, I'm going to give Uncle House his medicine and then you can tell me everything you did this weekend, okay?"

Mia's bottom lip protruded just a bit as she tried to keep herself from crying. "Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Can I take Uncle House his medicine and the water?"

Cuddy looked at Wilson, trying to decide if House would keep his cool and simply accept the meds, or if he might bite back at her. She split the difference, "Tell you what, I'll carry the water since it's so full and you can take the bottle of medicine to him."

Mia nodded.

The pair walked towards House, who sat in the recliner with his hand on his thigh, eyes closed. Mia approached him and ever so gently she tucked her small hand inside of his. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She smiled, placed the vicodin bottle in his hand and watched as Cuddy set the glass of water on the adjacent table. Satisfied that he wouldn't bark at Mia, Cuddy walked back to the kitchen.

Mia leaned in close to the chair and whispered, "I wish you didn't hurt."

House said nothing as she walked around the recliner, stopping to hover over his bad leg. Watching her with trepidation, House tensed, afraid she might touch his leg. Leaning down towards his hand that rested on his bad thigh, Mia ever-so-lightly kissed the top of his hand.

"Mommy always kisses it better when I hurt myself," she said, smiling sweetly up at him. "Does it feel better now?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded, all the while thinking, _everybody lies_.

* * *

Cuddy, Wilson and Mia ate lunch in the kitchen while House dozed in the living room. Mia detailed every last minute she'd spent with Wilson, from the moment Cuddy left down to suggesting they put pickles on House's sandwich minutes before they arrived home.

Wilson cleared the dishes as he listened to Mia regale her mother with the adventures they'd had over the weekend and when Cuddy gave Mia a plate with a sandwich on it for House, Wilson sat down to talk with Cuddy, alone.

"I made Mia's lunch for tomorrow. It's in the fridge with her name on it."

"You didn't have to do that."

"There's a second bag in there with House's name on it. Give that one to Mia."

Cuddy looked confused, "Why would I give her the one with House's name on it?"

"Because House will think Mia's has something better in it and he'll take that one. So I put Mia's lunch in the bag with his name on it, and a tube of liverwurst and a package of stale crackers in the bag with Mia's name on it."

Cuddy laughed a tired laugh, but enjoyed the joke just the same.

Wilson could see she was exhausted and his lighthearted tone changed to one of concern, "So, are you okay?"

She nodded, "I think so."

"How awful was he?"

Cuddy blushed, averting her eyes. "Surprisingly, he wasn't."

Wilson bit into a peanut butter cookie, eyeing her. He closed his eyes briefly as he sighed. "The two of you…" he swallowed before continuing, "You did, didn't you?" he asked, too embarrassed to verbalize what they both knew to be true.

She exhaled through her nose in a half chuckle, nodding.

Wilson shook his head, "I don't think I'll ever understand the two of you."

She finally looked up at him, "That makes two of us."

* * *

Mia sat the sandwich on the table next to House. He was still sleeping and instead of waking him, she walked over to the couch and curled up on it, waiting patiently for him to wake.

* * *

"Do you mind if I take off?"

Cuddy gave him a quick hug, "No, not at all. Thank you for watching Mia. Why don't you stop by for dinner some time this week, it's the least I can do."

Wilson picked up his suitcase, "Not necessary, but sure. Any excuse to spend time with that precious girl out there is fine by me. You've done well with her."

She smiled, "Thanks. You didn't have to buy her those books."

Wilson shook his head, "Can't an uncle dote on his niece? A few books aren't going to break the bank; I spend more on House's lunches in a week than I did in that book store."

Cuddy laughed, "Well, thank you."

"You're welcome," he said as they walked towards the front door.

They passed through the living room to find House munching on the sandwich, and Mia napping on the couch.

Wilson approached the recliner and whispered, "Do you want a ride home?"

House shook his head, "No."

"Man of many words. I don't think you should drive the bike home today."

With a smirk House said, "Who said I was going home? Mia's asleep," he looked over at Cuddy, "We could get in a quickie before she wakes up."

She rolled her eyes, "House." she said sternly.

Wilson put his hand up to stop him from going any further, "I don't want to know. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Wilson," House mumbled with a mouthful.

Feeling her cheeks flush, Cuddy said, "Oh he's not staying. Believe me. Once Mia's awake, I'm taking him home."

Wilson looked at him one last time, "Mia insisted we put pickles on your sandwich, by the way."

He furrowed his brow as he eyed his sandwich, "She knows I hate pickles on a sandwich."

Wilson smiled, "Exactly." And before House could retort, Wilson shut the door behind him.

House looked up at Cuddy, "You're not really taking me home."

She crouched down over the recliner, "Oh, yes I am," she said, before brushing her lips against his, smiling. "Mia's not ready to see us like this." She paused momentarily, "I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

* * *

By Tuesday afternoon, House and his team were working feverishly, trying to save the life of yet another patient. They'd gone through a dozen different diagnoses, each culminating in a dead end. And shortly before House planned to go home and after assigning his fellows a full evening's worth of testing, he informed them of his absence the following day.

"What do you mean you won't be here tomorrow?" We have a patient." Foreman complained.

"Correction, you have a patient. I have a prior engagement."

"And does Cuddy know about this prior engagement?"

House nodded, "She does," he said smugly.

"Right," Foreman said, not believing a word of it.

Taub rounded the corner and held up the newest test result, "Biopsy was negative."

In a sing-song voice, House said, "Told ya so."

"Where are you going?" Taub asked.

"Home."

"But our patient is…"

"Don't bother, he's got an excuse and apparently, the dean approves." Foreman said as he left the two standing near the whiteboard.

Taub shook his head, "I don't want to know, do I?"

House pinched the bridge of his nose, "Nope."

* * *

"So you won't be here for the procedure?" Shelby asked.

"I'm sorry, no. House won't go if I don't, you know how he gets. It would break Mia's heart," Wilson said sympathetically.

"What if something goes wrong?"

"It's a biopsy. You'll be fine. I guarantee you, Dr. Rogerstein is an excellent doctor; you're in good hands. I'll drop by after lunch. You'll still be in recovery anyway and I'll be here when you wake. Trust me, you'll be fine."

"What if they find it's spread?"

"We'll worry about that if and when we have to."

Shelby nodded, knowing Wilson could do no more sitting in a waiting room than he could attending a lunch.

* * *

"You're wearing a tie?" House asked in disgust, as he eyed Wilson up and down.

"You haven't brushed your hair in what, two, three years?"

His face pinched, House curled his lip at him. "I just hope it's not spaghetti." He shuddered in exaggeration, "The worst school lunch was always spaghetti. The noodles were crunchy, the sauce was thin and they always added fake beef."

"Fake beef?"

"It was brown, but no way was that stuff beef."

"Could be worse."

"You mean as in liverwurst and old crackers?"

Wilson couldn't help but laugh, "Served you right for taking a child's lunch. No, it could be cook's surprise."

"Ooh, cook's surprise; good point. Who puts post-it notes on a kid's brown paper sack lunch anyway?"

Wilson shrugged, "I do. She forgot her lunch box at school on Friday. I thought she'd like the bright color on the drab bag."

House looked at him in amazement, "You've got to be kidding me."

* * *

They heard her before they saw her. All the dads and pseudo dads were lined up outside according to grade level. The children were called in from recess and the students all ran towards them in excitement.

"You came, you came!"

"Of course we did," Wilson said, picking Mia up and holding her on his right hip, "Did you think we wouldn't?"

She shrugged, "I like your tie," she said, as she ran her hand down Wilson's tie. He smiled at her before sending a smirk in House's direction.

"Uncle House," she said tentatively, eyeing his leg, "Is it feeling better?"

He pursed his lips, not wanting yet another person inquiring about the pain he felt in his leg. House also caught Wilson's warning glance and before he could bite, he rolled his eyes and gave Mia a curt nod.

Mia held her arms out towards House, asking silently for him to hold her. He rolled his eyes again and lifted her from Wilson, "I can't carry you when we walk inside."

She nodded, leaning in towards his ear and whispered, "It's okay if I pretend you're my daddy today, right?"

He whispered back into her ear, "Only if you don't tell Wilson."

She smiled quite possibly the brightest smile he'd ever seen as she nodded in agreement. He set her down as Mia's teacher stood at the head of the line, waving towards everyone to follow her in to the cafeteria.

* * *

As Wilson and House stood in the lunch line, Mia and the other children were escorted to the bathrooms to wash hands and then back to the classroom to pick up the pictures and cards they'd created as gifts for the guests.

While standing in line, another father just ahead of the pair turned to greet both House and Wilson. He held out his hand, "Hi, I'm Jackson McKinney, Brian's dad."

"I'm James Wilson, this is Greg House. We're here with Mia." Wilson shook Jackson's hand as House stood behind Wilson, making a show of leaning on his cane with his right hand, clearly indicating he couldn't possibly let go for simple pleasantries. Jackson didn't seem to mind.

"I think it's so great that this school is open to same sex couples. It's so important that children feel at ease in their surroundings; families come in all shapes and sizes. My sister and her partner used a surrogate and Hannah's in second grade now." He pointed towards the back of the line, waving at his sister and niece.

Wilson began to choke as he realized what the man was getting at and much to his surprise, House turned on the charm as he wrapped his arm around Wilson.

"Isn't it wonderful?" he asked in an over dramatized, stereotypical gay voice, "This school has just been so accepting of us both." House looked Wilson in the eye, almost lovingly. Wilson about died.

Jackson nodded approvingly, "It is. We love Synergy. So, did you use a donor egg and a surrogate, or was Mia adopted?"

"Adopted," House said proudly.

Jackson nodded, just as the students came rushing in, each waving the handmade item in the air, anxious to hand it over to their loved one.

"Uncle Jimmy!" she shouted, "This one's for you." Mia turned her attention towards House, "And Daddy, this one's for you."

Instantly the smile disappeared from her face, realizing the word that had just spilled from her lips. Wilson looked questioningly at House, completely unaware of the little agreement between House and Mia.

"House," he started, brows furrowed, "You haven't told Mia that we're," he paused, "You know…gay?"

House chuckled, unable to contain it. Mia seemed to relax, not understanding the adult conversation the pair were having. House shook his head.

"I'm sorry Uncle House, I didn't mean…"

House took her hand in his as he looked her in the eye, "Tell you what, see Brian's dad up there?" She nodded. "Well, you can call me Daddy any time we're near them, and just for fun, you can call Wilson Mommy too, okay?"

Mia looked a bit confused about the mommy bit, but she reveled at his acceptance of allowing her to live out her daddy dreams.

Wilson gave House the evil eye, not knowing what he was up to. House sent him a smirk, "Can't a girl imagine what it's like to have a mommy and a daddy?" he asked furtively. Wilson eyed him skeptically, but said no more on the subject.

* * *

House turned his nose up in disgust, "Sure this isn't worse than cook's surprise?"

Wilson curled his lip at the tray in front of him, "I'll let you know in a couple of hours."

Mia sat between the two on the third lunch table, nearest the bathrooms. House sat on the end, his bad leg sticking out a bit. She looked up at House and asked, "What does gay mean?"

This time Wilson really did choke, having inhaled a bit of the spaghetti at her question. House watched in amusement as Wilson downed his puny carton of milk, trying to clear his throat.

Once Wilson's sputterings ceased, House turned back to Mia saying, "Happy. Gay means really, really happy."

Mia smiled, "Oh. Well, I'm glad you're gay then."

Wilson choked again as he started to laugh.

* * *

House closed his eyes on the ride back to the hospital. Wilson watched him from the corner of his eye.

"So, feeling a little more gay than normal?"

"If you mean happy, never," House said with a smile.

"You are. You're happy. Will wonders never cease?"

House shrugged, diverting Wilson's attention and hiding his own little private bit of happiness by saying, "How can I not be? The look on your face when I put my arm around you was worth every bite of that crunchy spaghetti. Consider it payback for the liverwurst."

Wilson chuckled while shaking his head, "Yeah, well you can be the one to tell Cuddy that the kids at Mia's school now think she has two fathers."

House didn't care though, because he now knew what it was like to be called Daddy, and it wasn't half as terrifying as he thought it would be. As far as he was concerned, Mia could keep on pretending.


	13. Chapter 13

Well, this is beginning to wind down. I think one or two chapters more and this sequel will be finished. I do have two more Mia stories to write yet (possibly more, who knows). I'm going to finish this one and then take a break from Mia for a while. I do have two stories planned for two ficathons this fall though.

Many thanks to my awesome betas: chippers87 & wrytingtyme...they are beyond brilliant. And thanks to my readers and reviewers for sticking it out this long with Miss. Mia.

Chapter 13

"Hey," he whispered.

"You're here," she responded, weakly.

"I said I would be."

"Why do you care so much?"

"You're my best friend's sister."

"Is that the only reason?"

"No."

"Good."

Wilson sat with Shelby throughout the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. He monitored her vitals, changed the IV and ensured her pain level was under control. Around eight that evening, House appeared at the doorway, a look of not-quite-masked concern on his face. He walked in, and Wilson stood, allowing his friend to take the chair. House initially refused, not playing the cripple card.

Under the guise of stopping by Shelby's room to pass a file to Wilson, House said, "He's your patient now, the lump on his chest was benign, but the one in his brain isn't."

Wilson sighed, looked over the chart briefly and nodded as House finally took a seat in the chair. Not waiting for House to ask, because he knew he wouldn't, Wilson motioned towards Shelby with a nod of his head, "She's doing okay. She needs a radical mastectomy and another round of chemo."

House took a long, deep breath, "Our genes are a crap shoot. Oma died of kidney cancer that metastasized to the lungs; Opa died of colon cancer, and that's just on our dad's side. No idea what her mother's side is like."

"She's got about a 50/50 chance," Wilson said, shaking his head. With a sigh, he added, "That's one part of cancer I've never understood; why it attacks those who have so much life left to live. It's an evil, that's the only way I can make sense of it."

"So, have you kissed her yet?"

Wilson rolled his eyes, though surprisingly he wasn't as shocked by the question as House expected him to be. "House."

"I need to know what your intentions are with my sister."

"Because the two of you are so close, right?" Wilson asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

House shrugged, "She doesn't have any other siblings and her mother's dead. If I don't stand with the pitchfork at the front door, who will?"

"How noble of you."

"Seriously, have you?"

"None of your business, House."

"So, that would be a no then."

Wilson wouldn't dignify that with a response, and in so doing, House knew that they had not yet kissed.

"Well, I have an administrator to annoy."

Wilson furrowed his brow, "You're not staying?"

"Nope, I know you will."

"Nice. Cuddy went home already."

"I know," House said with a grin.

* * *

"Mommy, here," Mia said, handing her mother a note from school.

Cuddy raised her eyebrows, "Picture day," she nodded. "Are you supposed to wear your uniform?"

"Yep. Can you curl my hair that morning?"

Cuddy played with Mia's hair, picking up a few long strands and allowing them to cascade down onto her shoulders, "Sure. Do you want them in pig-tails, or just down?"

"Um, just down."

"We can do that. You'll have to get up extra early that morning so I can use the curling iron."

"Okay."

Cuddy poured herself a cup of hot tea and added a healthy dollop of honey to it, to ease her achy throat. She was wary about becoming sick, given how susceptible Mia was to pneumonia. Mia settled into the couch and her mom leaned back into the recliner, cradling her hot cup of tea while closing her eyes; they hadn't been shut for even a minute when the doorbell rang. Knowing it could be only one person, Cuddy opened the door, a tired sigh escaping her lips upon seeing him.

Armed with a sarcastic introductory snark, House opened his mouth to release his cryptic sense of humor when he stopped himself. Pausing momentarily as he took in her appearance, he looked her up and down, glanced at the tea and said, "You look like hell."

Cuddy nodded, as if she expected to hear as much from him, "Thanks. You always know just what to say to make a girl feel special."

"I do my best."

"What do you want, House?"

He shrugged, "I guess a visit with the girls is out of the question?"

She smirked, shook her head and proceeded to shut the door. He braced his arm against the door, put his hand behind her head and pulled her in close, placing his lips against her forehead.

Rolling her tired eyes, she said, "What are you doing?" House shut the door behind him, without removing his lips from her forehead.

"Uncle House!" Mia happily shouted, followed closely by, "What are you doing to Mommy?" in an alarmed voice.

House closed his eyes, "Checking your mom's temperature."

"No you're not, you're kissing her."

"No, I'm checking her temperature."

"I don't believe you."

By this time, House had finally pulled away from Cuddy, and he knelt down beside Mia, "Put your lips on my forehead."

"I don't want to kiss you."

"It's not a kiss. Just put your lips on my forehead."

Mia frowned but did as he asked, leaving her lips on his forehead just briefly, "Now what?"

"Now," he said, lifting her so she was eye level with Cuddy, "Put your lips on your mom's forehead."

Mia did so and seconds later her eyebrows went up, "She's kind of hot."

House nodded as he set Mia back on he ground, "I told you I wasn't kissing her."

"Why is Mommy warmer than you?"

"Because she's sick."

Mia looked up at Cuddy in alarm, "Are you okay, Mommy?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "I'm just tired. It's your bedtime, Mia."

Mia smiled, "Can Uncle House tuck me in?"

House rolled his eyes, "Smiagle,"

Seeing House complain, Cuddy smiled, "I'm sure he'd love to."

"Yippee!"

House reluctantly took Mia's hand as she dragged him down the hallway towards her room. She crawled into bed and then with a devious smile, she said, "Will you check my closet?"

"Smiagle, there's nothing in there but clothes."

"Please? What if there's a monster in there?"

"If there is, I'll eat my socks."

Mia laughed out loud, "I hope there's a monster in there!"

House checked the closet and not finding any monsters, pulled the covers up to her chin and headed towards the door. "Goodnight, Smiagle."

"Goodnight." She waited for him to shut the door before adding, "Daddy."

* * *

She slapped his hand away, "I'm fine."

"If you're not, do you really want to risk getting Mia sick?"

"Of course not."

"Then shut up," he said as he placed his fingertips on her neck. "You've got strep."

"You can't know that. I'm running a fever and my throat's sore. That's it. No white spots."

"When you come in tomorrow," he said, moving towards the front door, "Run a throat culture. If I'm right, I get a week off clinic."

"A day."

"A week, or I won't watch Mia while you're sick."

She frowned, "Fine. And if you're wrong, you work an extra hour a day for a week in the clinic."

"Deal," he said with a smirk, confident he'd already won.

* * *

The next morning, Cuddy woke to a raging sore throat, fever and an upset stomach. "Dammit," she said to no one in particular. Using a flashlight in the mirror, she checked her throat, and sure enough, she could see the white spots.

Cuddy walked out to the kitchen to find Mia dressed and ready for school. "Mia, sweetie, get your suitcase out and pack three school uniforms, three pair of pants and tops and three sets of underwear in it. Don't forget your hairbrush and toothbrush."

"Why, Mommy?"

"You're spending the rest of the week with Uncle House."

"You're sick."

Cuddy nodded.

* * *

"Let me guess," House said, answering the phone, "I get to pick up the rugrat from school today?"

"I'm not coming in."

"Strep throat?"

"Don't gloat."

"Wasn't gloating."

"I can hear your smirk."

"You need antibiotics."

"Wilson's dropping them by later."

She could hear him sigh on the other end of the line and Cuddy suddenly felt guilty for getting sick, not for House's sake but for Mia's. She knew it wasn't her fault, but she couldn't help but feel like she'd let Mia down somehow. It just wasn't safe for Mia to be near Cuddy when she was so sick and it wasn't worth risking another bout of pneumonia, but she still thought that as her parent, she should take care of her sick or not.

"You know, I might just forget that every student in Mia's class thinks she has two dads for this."

"You heard about that."

"Please just tell me you and Wilson aren't really…"

"No worries, I'll always prefer your girls."

She couldn't help but smile, "Ass."

"Well that too."

"I was calling you an ass."

"Get some rest."

"Thanks, House."

"You so totally owe me."

"You'll get your week off of clinic duty."

"That's just for being right about your diagnosis. What do I get for watching Smiagle?"

"Lots of hugs and kisses, if you're lucky."

House raised an eyebrow, "From Mia or from you?"

"Depends on whether or not Mia makes it out alive and in one piece."

* * *

Wilson stood on the threshold to Shelby's hospital room, discharge papers in hand. He watched her and couldn't help but wonder what she would do all by herself, alone in a new city, undergoing treatment for cancer.

She smiled in his direction, "Hi."

"I'd like to talk with you about something."

"Are those my discharge papers?"

Wilson nodded, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I know you think I should ask Greg, but we barely know each other anymore."

"I know."

"And I don't have anyone else to ask, really."

"That's why I'd like to check in on you daily."

Shelby looked up into his brown eyes, "That's one way to ask me on a date."

Wilson chuckled, "It's just for the first week and then you'll have to come back here for the second round of chemo. I've arranged for a nurse to be there, but I'd still like to drop by."

She nodded, "Thank you."

"So, should I plan on any little Wilsons running around here any time soon?" House asked from the doorway.

Wilson glared at him, as Shelby began to cry. "Nice going, House," Wilson said, blocking his friend's view of Shelby.

"What? I thought the two of you were an item."

Through her tears, Shelby managed to squeak out, "Have you seen me? Nothing more attractive than a bald, dying cancer patient."

House furrowed his brow, and pushed Wilson to the side, "You're young enough; this treatment can work."

She shook her head, "I had cervical cancer when I was in my twenties. What are the statistics on someone surviving cancer twice?"

House closed his eyes for the briefest of moments; he was unaware of the cervical cancer.

Wilson shook his head, "I think you should go now, House."

He pursed his lips and nodded, as he walked out of the room.

* * *

Mia stood in House's living room as he placed a pillow and blankets on the couch for Mia to sleep on.

"But I don't wanna go to bed."

"Smiagle, it's past your bed time."

"Don't call me that!" she said, suddenly becoming overly cranky.

"Come on, I'll read you a story."

Mia stood and stomped foot, crossed her arms and scowled, "No."

House rolled his eyes, too exhausted to put up with yet another tantrum. She'd thrown one every night that week, and he'd about had enough. Just as he was about to explain to her that her mom would be just fine, there came a knock on the door. Before he could get off the couch, Wilson walked in and stood with his hands on his hips.

"Mia Rose Cuddy, I could hear you all the way outside. Put your pajamas on and get into bed."

Mia stuck out her bottom lip, "But Uncle Jimmy, Uncle House was being mean."

House raised his eyebrows, "I was not!"

Wilson looked at House and the two of them sent a series of silent eyebrow signals and slight head movements before Wilson determined House was being honest.

"Mia, telling you to go to bed is not being mean. Get into bed now, or I'll tell your mother that I'm taking you back to my place and you can't stay with Uncle House anymore." House nodded his head vigorously hoping Wilson would do as he said, and Mia shook her head equally as insistently, hoping he wouldn't.

"No, Uncle Jimmy. I wanna stay here!"

"Then put your pajamas on and get into bed. We'll be there to tuck you in once you have your pajamas on."

"Will you read me a story in Uncle House's room? There's more room there than on this couch."

House made a grunting sound, indicating his disapproval.

"Yes, but then you have to come back out here to sleep. Understood?" Wilson looked between both Mia and House, both of them nodding.

"Go on, pajamas," House said.

Mia made an audible, "Humph," and marched herself to House's bedroom.

Wilson joined his friend on the couch, "The night time tantrums are fun, aren't they?"

"So she did this at your place too?"

"Every night."

"Why anyone would want a snot-nosed, tantrum-throwing, whiny, cranky kid is beyond me."

"And yet I accept you as a friend," Wilson said with a smirk.

"Hey, I'm not snot-nosed," House said with a half smile. "What are you doing here?"

Wilson shrugged, "Thought you could use a little help with a certain snot-nosed, tantrum-throwing, whiny, cranky kid." House nodded in agreement.

The pair sat in silence for a prolonged minute and when Wilson decided House wasn't going to inquire, he finally said, "Shelby's doing well."

"I figured. You would have said otherwise."

"She's asking to see you."

"Have you kissed her yet?"

Wilson dropped his shoulders and sighed, "House." He shook his head, "How's Cuddy?"

"Better. Mia can go home tomorrow."

"You called her Mia."

"It is her name."

"You never use it."

Before House could object, they heard, "I'm reeeeeaaadyyyyyy," in a sing-song voice from the bedroom.

"I don't know how Cuddy puts up with this every night," House complained, standing from the couch.

Wilson smiled, "Oh come on, you're enjoying every last second."

"Ha! Fat chance."

Wilson nodded knowingly, "Mia could have gone home two nights ago. Cuddy's been on the antibiotics long enough. Are you still allowing her to call you daddy?"

House cocked an eyebrow, "No."

Wilson nodded, "So you are, but only if no one else is around."

"I said no."

"Right."

Wilson chose a book from Mia's backpack and settled onto the bed next to her, sitting so that he was facing her, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. House sat on the other side, seemingly not interested.

"Da…Uncle House?" Mia asked, "Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?"

House rolled his eyes, and sighed loudly.

"Please?"

He pursed his lips, swung his legs up onto the bed and placed his back against the headboard, allowing her to snuggle into his side.

House gave Wilson a warning look, "Not a word to a single soul."

"Wouldn't think of it."

House became slightly tangled in Mia's long hair and sputtered a bit as some of it found its way into his mouth, "Ugh Mia, this hair."

"What's wrong with it?"

"There's too much of it."

She crossed her arms and focused on the book in Wilson's hands, "Mommy says it's pretty."

"It's a rat's nest," House quipped, finally free from any stray hairs lingering in his face. "Are you going to read the story or not?" he asked Wilson.

Wilson nodded and began to read. When he was finished, he looked up to find both House and Mia fast asleep and as he made his way to the door, he whispered, "Goodnight, _Daddy_."


	14. Chapter 14

I think there's just one chapter left after this one. Thanks for reading and reviewing, and thanks to the best betas ever: chippers87 & wrytingtyme.

Ch. 14

House woke with a stiff neck and a distinct feeling that something was not quite right. "Mia?" he called out. No answer. He crawled out of bed, still fully clothed from the night before, right down to his sneakers. Grabbing his cane from its perch on the nightstand, House hobbled out towards the living room, looking for Mia. Not seeing her, a pang of fear resonated deep within, a pang he was not yet ready to acknowledge.

"Mia?" again, no answer. He could see she wasn't in the kitchen, or behind the piano, not in the bedroom or the hall closet. Her backpack and belongings were still where she'd left them the night before. Finally, he knocked on the bathroom door, "Mia, are you in there?" He could hear her sniffling and he breathed a sigh or relief. "Open up."

"No," she sobbed.

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Then open the door."

"No."

"I'm coming in."

"No!" she cried out, but before she could lock the door, House barged in and much to his shock, he found Mia sitting on the floor amongst a pile of black hair, chopped into bits with his dull pair of kitchen shears. The offending weapon sat in the sink, her black hair sticking every which way from its blades. Mia's hair was patchy at best, as though someone had randomly decided to create a new-wave hairstyle to be envied by every grunge or punk rocker in the music industry.

"What have you done?" House asked, each word becoming louder as he said them.

Crying uncontrollably, she said, "You said…" choke, cry, sniff, "It looked like a…" her voice raised a notch as she squealed, "A, a rat's nest!"

House placed his palm to his forehead, completely at a loss for words. All he had to do was put Mia to bed and feed her, and he'd screwed up. He was dead. He knew Cuddy would kill him. He briefly ran through a dozen ways he could off himself before she could have the satisfaction; pills, no too obvious. Drive off a cliff maybe, or fill the tub with water and drown in his own guilt. No, that would seem too pathetic. He was too tall to hang properly. Kitchen shears; yep, that would do it, and appropriately so.

Panicking, he paced the hallway, muttering incoherent ramblings, anticipating his sure to be cataclysmic kismet.

"Are you mad at me, Uncle House?" Mia's meek voice cried from the bathroom.

"Am I mad at you?" he asked, not sure of the answer himself.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the living room, picked up the phone and used speed dial to call his lifeline. "This better be good, House. It's not even eight o'clock on my day off."

"I need you here. It's Mia."

"House?"

"Dammit, just get here, now."

Before Wilson could respond, House had hung up and headed for the kitchen. There was absolutely no way he could get through the morning without the strongest pot of coffee known to man.

* * *

Wilson burst through House's front door, his ridiculously old-fashioned physician's bag in hand, stethescope around his neck and a panicked, wild eyed expression across his face. Upon seeing House standing there with a large towel bundled up in his arms, and the kitchen shears perched on top, he looked fearfully at his friend, wondering how much blood there actually might be. He set the bag down and rummaged inside for a suture kit.

"Where is she? Why didn't you get her to the hospital?" Not looking at House, his hands shook as he prepared the first aid items, "You're a doctor, House. I know she's Mia and I know how attached you are to her, but you should be able to handle a medical crisis." Wilson finally looked up at his friend, "You should have taken her straight to the hospital."

House stared blankly at him, "Don't usually take a snot-nosed, tantrum-throwing, whiny, cranky kid who cut off all her hair to emergency."

Wilson stood open mouthed as he processed the information. Very slowly, he placed the items in his hands back into his bag. "So wait, you called me before eight am on a Saturday, because Mia cut her hair?" House nodded almost comically, acting as innocently as he possibly could.

"I'm leaving," Wilson said, turning towards the door.

They heard Mia's sniffling before she poked her head out of the bathroom, "Uncle House, are you still mad at me?"

Wilson saw Mia's choppy hair and was shocked at the extent to which she'd butchered herself. His heart melting, Wilson walked over to her and picked her up, setting her chin on his shoulder. He comforted her as best as he could by rocking a bit and rubbing her back.

"Are you mad at me too?" she asked.

"No, Mia. I'm not mad. Disappointed, but not mad." He put her down, held her hands in his and asked, "Why would you do something like this?"

Mia stared at her bare feet, her bottom lip protruding just a bit, a fresh wave of tears hiding just behind her fear. "Uncle House said my hair looked like a rat's nest."

House now stood beside them, "Well now it looks like your scalp met a lawn mower."

Wilson gave him an exasperated look, "You're not helping." Wilson turned his attention towards her, "Mia, he was making a joke, honey."

Wilson again looked at House, "This is your fault."

"This is _her_ fault."

"You need to fix this, House."

"Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a hairdresser."

"You'll figure it out, McCoy."

House snickered, "How'd you get here so fast?"

Wilson stood up, and headed towards the kitchen, not answering.

"You were at Shelby's, weren't you?"

Wilson turned sharply to look at House, "Someone has to be; she's all alone and she's had a rough couple of days."

House tried to hide his concern by acting indifferent, "So, what do we do about the rugrat's coif?"

"Here's a thought, tell Cuddy the truth and let her deal with it."

"And be murdered on site? I don't think so."

"Call a hairdresser."

House raised his eyebrows, "Yeah."

* * *

Wilson stood in the children's salon as House sat in one of the chairs nearest the front door. Wilson found the place online and the pair had made an appointment for Mia at nine o'clock that morning, and now she sat in a little fire engine, specifically geared for children. Mandy, the "hair specialist", cut her hair.

House had referred to Mandy as a hair dresser upon arrival, and the pair were given a quick lesson in her proper title, a "hair specialist". Both House and Wilson had a good chuckle out of Mandy's earshot. Half an hour later, Mia jumped down from the fire engine sporting a short bob. Wilson thought she looked adorable, House grumbled something about it not being as bad as the rat's nest. House paid when Wilson refused and the trio headed towards Cuddy's; in House's mind, towards utter doom.

* * *

Mia hid behind Wilson, ashamed at what she'd done that morning and afraid of her mother's impending reaction. House rang the doorbell with his cane and they waited for Cuddy's wrath to unfurl.

Cuddy opened the door, a smile across her face upon seeing Wilson and House. Her gaze traveled downwards and her mouth dropped open, all traces of her smile vanished from her previously happy demeanor.

"House! What have you done?" She exclaimed. "Picture day is this week!"

Wilson raised his hands, trying to quell a potentially panicky Cuddy, "It wasn't _actually_ his fault."

Cuddy looked from Wilson to House to Mia in confusion, "Don't defend him, Wilson."

"Why don't we go inside and talk about this?" Wilson asked, wondering what her neighbors must be thinking.

Cuddy opened the door further and stood aside as the trio walked in. Once seated in the living room, she ran her fingers through her daughter's hair and sighed.

"Well?"

"Smiagle decided to take a pair of scissors to her hair," House finally said.

"And why weren't you watching her?"

"Oh, I don't know. I thought it was a great idea to leave a sharp pair of scissors in a bathroom with a five year old," he said sarcastically.

Cuddy eyed Mia, "Why would you cut off all your hair?"

"Because Uncle House said my hair looked like a rat's nest."

Cuddy glared at House, "And why would you say that?"

House opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Wilson came to his rescue, "It was an innocent mistake, really. I was about to read a story, Mia was sitting with House, and her hair got into his mouth. He did say it, but the haircut was all Mia. She did it before House was even awake."

"And because Mia worships the ground you walk on," Cuddy deduced, "She decided to get rid of the rat's nest."

House nodded.

"Oh Mia," she sighed.

Mia tucked her chin in as tears rolled down her cheeks, "I'm sorry, Mommy."

Cuddy put her finger under her chin and looked her in the eye, "Don't you ever take a pair of scissors to your hair again. Understood? We'll talk about your punishment later."

Trying to make Mia feel better, Wilson added, "I think your hair looks cute. It'll grow back."

Mia gave him a half smile, but waited for House to say something; it was his and her mother's opinion that mattered most to her.

"It is cute," Cuddy relented.

Mia looked up at House, "Are you still mad at me?"

He pursed his lips, "At least your hair won't get in the way anymore."

She brightened a bit, walked over to him and crawled up onto the couch he was sitting on, and wrapped her arms around his neck. House remained still, stiffening a bit at her touch.

She squeezed tight, "So you're not mad at me?"

He shook his head, "No." She squeezed him again and then ran towards the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Cuddy called out.

"Bathroom, I want to see my hair!"

Smiling, Wilson stood saying, "I told Shelby I'd be back before ten and it's already half past."

"Bye Wilson," Cuddy said giving him a quick hug. House gave a curt wave.

Wilson's pager sounded, he glanced at it and sighed, "Damn,"

"Have to go in?" Cuddy asked.

Wilson nodded as he looked at House, "Would you go check on Shelby?"

House gave him an annoyed look, "But I don't wanna."

"Go anyway."

Frowning, House nodded, "You'd better bring lunch back with you."

"Fine," Wilson said, walking out the door, "I'll drop you off."

House passed Cuddy on his way out, "So, do I get my hugs and kisses now?"

"Nope. She didn't come back to me in one piece."

"But Mommy, you promised."

Cuddy leaned in and teasingly kissed him on the forehead, "Thanks for taking care of her."

* * *

Shelby wretched into the trashcan between her knees as she sat on the rented couch at her temporary place. She leaned back, completely worn out. She reached for her glass of water on the table only to find it was empty; sighing, she set the trash can down and tried to build up enough energy to stand from the couch.

"Sit still," a gruff voice said from the front door.

She looked over her shoulder at House and closed her eyes briefly, "Where's James?"

"It's James now, huh?"

"He's not my doctor anymore."

House picked up the glass and walked to the kitchen to fill it up. Upon his return, he scrunched his nose up in disgust, "It smells like a puke factory in here."

"What did you expect? They've pumped my body full of poison, and now they're giving me antibiotics for the infection, and the combination makes my stomach do somersaults. Sorry I ran out of air freshener," she said tartly.

House handed her the glass of water and removed the trash can, holding it at arms' length. He returned shortly with a fresh liner in the can and set it beside Shelby. Sitting next to her, he picked up her wrist and took her pulse.

"What are you doing?"

"I am a doctor, you know."

"But why are you here and not James?"

"He got called in to the hospital. Will you be quiet so I can hear your heart?" he asked, placing the stethoscope in his ears.

Looking at him quizzically, she obeyed. Once he was finished, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me about the cervical cancer?"

"You aren't my doctor; didn't think it was relative."

He sighed, "What did your mom die of?"

Her gaze dropped and her mood saddened, "Pneumonia. She had dementia and I had to finally place her in a home after she thought I was a bald man stealing things from her house. Two weeks later, she died of pneumonia."

"She died when you were in the middle of chemo?"

Shelby nodded, "She nearly broke my nose, trying to defend her house from the 'bald man'."

House flashed a pen light into her eyes, "Where did you go to college?"

"UCLA. Double majored in journalism and marketing."

"So, back in tomorrow for more chemo?"

"Yep."

"Do you like Spongebob?"

"Who?"

"Spongebob. You know, as in Squarepants?"

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Clearly you haven't been around many kids."

"Clearly not. Not really a possibility after cervical cancer."

"You never married?"

"No. You?"

"Almost. Twice."

"Who'd marry you?" She asked with a smile.

"Obviously no one," he said in a huff.

"Are you seeing anyone now?"

House tilted his head from side to side, "Off and on."

"On right now, I'd say."

He smiled with a slight blush, "Maybe."

"Anyone I know?"

He eyed her, "Wilson's told you."

A slow smile crept across her face, "She's pretty."

"Mitts off, she's mine."

"I don't swing that way."

"You'd better not for Wilson's sake," House paused, gauging his words carefully. "He hasn't been interested in anyone since Amber."

She nodded, "I've heard."

"He told you?"

"He did."

"He's vunerable."

"Who isn't?"

"I can't..." House paused, "I can't let you hurt him."

She nodded, "I would never hurt him."

"You'll do exactly that if you die."

"He's just helping me through this. I won't let it get that far."

House shook his head, "It's already that far."

"I'll tell him. I don't want to hurt him, I don't."

"You'll tell him what?"

"That, that..." tears formed in her eyes, "I don't know what. That I'm not interested."

"Don't. That would hurt him even more."

Becoming uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, House flipped on the television, "This," he said, turning to a children's channel, "Is Spongebob Squarepants."

Shelby looked at the screen as she shook her head, "A pineapple at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Just go with it."

"James told me about the infarction."

"Yeah, well. Life's a bitch and then you die."

Shelby was initially shocked by his words, but a thought crossed her mind which lightened her mood. "Or you meet a bitch you once knew who won't let you get away with saying crap like that."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Wasn't thinking."

"Clearly."

"You're tough, come on, life isn't all sunshine and rainbows," he said, mocking his father.

"Yeah, well it's not all doom and gloom, either. Don't turn into him."

"Don't insult me."

"Don't. Just don't."

They watched the cartoon in silence for the length of two episodes, before he finally said, "He's dead and I'm not him."

"He can't hurt us anymore," she said as she choked back a dry heave. "And no, you're not him. Never were, but your words that day and then not seeing or hearing from you in over thirty years, hurt me more than he ever did."

House focused on the television screen, but said nothing.

"Don't do it again. I won't be as forgiving next time."

He sucked in his upper lip briefly as he looked into her eyes, whispering, "I won't."

* * *

Wilson walked in to her living room and found House holding her hair back as she threw up into the trash can. He smiled inwardly as he noted a more relaxed expression on his friend's face and a look of peace on hers, despite the violent act of vomiting. He walked straight into the kitchen, hoping the smell of the Chinese food wouldn't upset Shelby's stomach even more. House soon joined him in the kitchen.

"Everything okay between you two?"

Annoyed at his best friendishness way of asking if they'd talked, House nodded as he peaked into the bag of garlicky goodness, pulling out an egg roll and shoving it into his mouth.

"Think we should eat in here?" Wilson asked.

"Well, we could sit out there and watch a puking cancer patient as we play 'how fast can we make her puke?' by eating in front of her."

"Point taken."

"So, have you kissed her yet?"

"I've been with you or at the hospital the whole time since you last asked me that."

"So that would be a no."

"I don't understand you."

"What's not to understand?"

That made Wilson chuckle, "Everything."

"Besides that?"

"Do you _want_ me to kiss her?"

House shrugged, "Do _you_ want to kiss her?"

"Maybe."

They locked eyes momentarily, reaching a level of understanding without words before silently tucking into the feast in front of them.

"It's okay, I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Shelby called out from the living room.

"Didn't think you'd want to eat," Wilson shouted back.

"Did you bring any soup?"

"Yes."

"I could try that."

Wilson turned to look at House, "She's been puking right?"

House nodded.

"And now she wants wonton soup."

"The nerve of a dying baldy who hasn't eaten in weeks to actually envy us eating a meal. Give the woman some broth."

Wilson looked at him in confusion, "Are you being sympathetic?"

"Nope, just want to eat in peace; if you don't give her something, she'll just gripe louder."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way..." Wilson took a bowl of soup out to Shelby, gave her hand a light squeeze. She squeezed back and flashed a genuine smile and Wilson returned to the kitchen; the entire interaction observed intently by House.

"A hundred bucks says she moves into your place by Christmas."

"And how would you feel about that?"

"Don't Dr. Phil me."

"You didn't shoot the idea down."

"Are you taking that bet, or not?"

"You're on."


	15. Chapter 15

This is it, last chapter. About twice as long as usual. The next story in the Mia series won't be posted until after the new year. I want it to be better than this one, so I'm going to really put my efforts towards it.

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing and a HUGE shout out to my betas: chippers87 & wrytingtyme for all of their invaluable help. Wrytingtyme and I were up until 1am chatting about this chapter!

Ch. 15

Several months had passed since the hair butchering incident, and much to Cuddy's relief, they passed uneventfully. Mia was happily doing well in school, no major catastrophes had occurred at work, or at home and no major lawsuits were filed on House's behalf. Cuddy was waiting for the other shoe to drop, sure that things couldn't continue on in such a relatively stress free manner.

She set the table for two and stirred the spaghetti sauce on the stove, waiting for Wilson to drop Mia off at home; it was normally House's job, but he was away at a conference in Hawaii with two of his fellows. Three weeks after Mia started at Synergy, she began her piano lessons at the insistence of House; he'd complained that he could no longer teach Mia, because of her desire to do anything and everything other than sit at the piano. Cuddy relented and on the days that Mia had her piano lessons, House would take Mia to her lessons. His excuse for such niceties was that Cuddy wouldn't know a middle C from an A; she knew it was a paper-thin excuse and that he secretly enjoyed watching her learn to play. She also knew that House had some how secured a top notch and well respected instructor, one who supposedly was fully booked for lessons. And when it came down to it, House's excuse that he couldn't teach Mia was absurd; she'd watched the pair from the window and knew first hand that Mia was a good student, eager to learn from her beloved uncle and that he was perfectly competent at teaching her.

They'd had an argument about Mia's music lessons several days before House left for the week long conference in Hawaii. Mia wanted to add the flute to her repertoire and House instantly agreed. Cuddy did not and as her mother, she won and he had not yet accepted her win. She was not fazed by the argument however, instead figuring it par for course with House.

_"She's only five, she needs to be a kid!" Cuddy insisted. _

_"You can't stifle creativity when it comes to music!" He argued._

_"You haven't agreed to legally adopt her; you have no say in the matter."_

_"And yet, she's taking piano lessons."_

_"It's good for her; studies have proven a direct correlation between learning a musical instrument and higher cognitive ability."_

_"She has an interest in learning another instrument."_

_"She's FIVE."_

_"Juilliard is only thirteen years away. Do you think they'll look at a kid who plays just one instrument over one who plays multiple instruments?"_

_"House, you don't honestly think she'll go to Juilliard?"_

_"That's what we decided when she was an infant."_

_"We?"_

_He glared at her, having been caught thinking of Mia as his own. "Never mind. Fine, let her mind rot. Squash her talent. I'm sure you'd rather she be a doctor or a lawyer, or a cab driver."_

_"Cab driver? And talent, House? She can barely play Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."_

_"You'd be surprised at what she can play."_

_"I said no."_

Cuddy sighed at the memory, as she watched Wilson and Shelby drive up, having taken on the chauffer role in House's absence. Mia jumped out of the backseat and ran up the walkway, digging in her backpack in excitement. Cuddy exchanged a quick wave with Shelby and Wilson before they drove off. Outside of Wilson's job, the pair were rarely seen apart.

Mia found the flier she was looking for and waved it around in excitement, "Mommy! We're going to have a performance!"

Cuddy smiled, "When?"

"Just before the holiday break. It's a holiday concert!"

"Well, we'll have to go then, won't we?"

"Yep, and Uncle House and Uncle Wilson and Shelby, too."

Cuddy nodded, "They'd like that."

* * *

The following Monday, Mia tore out of the elevator and ran towards the diagnostics room. Opening the door, she rushed inside and jumped into House's arms. He was shocked, to say the least.

"Get off!" he grumbled.

"I missed you."

"Well, I didn't miss you."

Mia's bright mood dimmed slightly, "Yes you did."

"No, I didn't. I have work to do, go bug Wilson."

"I have my piano lesson today."

"Wilson's taking you," he said, annoyed.

"But you always take me."

"Not anymore."

Mia headed towards the door, head down, happiness gone. She turned to look at him as she opened the door and smiled sadly, "I got you a Christmas present."

House stopped reading the file and looked up at her, "You're Jewish."

Saying nothing, Mia walked back to her mom's office.

* * *

"What's eating you?" Wilson asked as he and Wilson sat down for lunch in the cafeteria.

House shook his head.

"So, it's Cuddy, Mia or Shelby and since you haven't seen Shelby since you got back from the conference, that narrows it down to two."

"Eat your lunch."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"Nope."

"So, did you get anything for Cuddy for Christmas?"

"She's Jewish."

"Come on House, did you or didn't you?"

He sat there playing with the bag of chips in front of him, not eating any but not saying anything either. House toyed with the idea of telling him, but decided against it, not wanting to be pestered about it.

"That's your problem. You can't decide if you'll get something for her or not. What about Mia? You've always gotten her something."

"So, is Shelby still dying?"

"Don't change the subject," Wilson set with a set jaw, it would take a lot more than that to make him back off.

House sighed, "Nope."

"You haven't gotten Mia anything?"

"Nope."

"Cuddy?"

House looked up from his bag of chips and the two locked eyes.

"Wait, are you two even talking?"

House pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Wilson nodded, realization dawning. "So you're not talking to her, but you want to get her a gift. Or you've already gotten her a gift."

"Way off the mark, Wilson."

"I don't think so. I'm not going to just drop it, so you might as well fess up."

"Oh look at the time," House said as he stood from the table, "I'm sure someone in this hospital's dying. Gotta go."

* * *

That evening, Wilson entered House's apartment without knocking, circled the couch and sat next to his friend. House handed him a beer, having anticipated his arrival, though they had made no such prior arrangement.

"Mia refused to go to her piano lesson today." Wilson said, looking straight ahead at the muted television. House closed his eyes. "Well, it took a little over four years, but you finally broke her heart."

House sighed.

"Talk to her, House."

He nodded and the pair sat in silence as they watched a cooking show on mute while drinking beer. When the show was over, Wilson went home.

* * *

Close to midnight on Friday, Cuddy finished wrapping a few Hanukkah gifts for Mia before pulling out the small box containing the gift she'd bought for House. Frowning, she opened it, looked at the gift and wondered if they'd reconcile any time soon. It was a crap shoot; arguments between the pair could last anywhere from hours to months. Cuddy purchased the gift long before the argument and now that he was ignoring Mia in addition to herself, she was fairly certain she'd have no reason to give it to him. Taking out the Christmas paper, she wrapped it anyway, just in case.

* * *

At nine o'clock on Saturday morning, Cuddy woke to a screaming Mia, who ran up and down the hallway, anxious for her mom to get out of bed.

"Mommy! Mommy! Someone's at the door!"

"Don't answer it; you don't know who it is. Honestly, these solicitors start knocking earlier and earlier," she muttered.

She donned her robe, told Mia to wait near the hallway, and Cuddy looked through the peep hole. It was dark, meaning someone was covering it with a finger and she knew it could only be a certain acerbic doctor who was currently not speaking to her. Opening the door, she intended to send him home after glaring at him as menacingly as possible; what she hadn't anticipated were the two large cups of coffee and the bag of bagels in his hand. A peace offering. The tension on her face eased and Cuddy backed away from the door, allowing him to enter.

"Uncle House!" Mia shouted excitedly. Instantly, her demeanor changed, having remembered the way he treated her the day before. Her brow furrowed slightly and she turned away, intending to go back to her bedroom.

"Go get dressed, Smiagle. We're going out."

With a gasp of hope, she turned around and smiled tentatively, "You and me?"

House nodded, "Yep. Just you and me," he looked at Cuddy, "If that's okay with your mom."

Cuddy knew he was treading lightly and was on his best behavior. Not a commonly exhibited behavior, which meant he felt guilty, possibly even ashamed, for upsetting Mia. She nodded in agreement.

"Yay!' Mia yelped in joy before running to get dressed.

"So, where are you taking her?" Cuddy asked.

"Mall. I need her opinion on a gift for Shelby."

"You're buying a gift?" she asked, feigning shock.

He exhaled in annoyance, "I can handle one gift every thirty years or so." House held up the bag of bagels, "I'm starved."

The pair sat in the kitchen and ate breakfast together quietly; a glazed donut sat to the side, waiting for Mia.

Cuddy sipped at her coffee, "So, how's Shelby?"

"Haven't seen her in a week, don't know."

"She's been good for Wilson."

He agreed. House couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Wilson so happy, "She is."

"I asked them to come for dinner next week. It would be nice if you came."

"Maybe," he said quietly, minding his snark. He knew that now was not the time to invoke his sarcastic tongue.

"I'm ready!" Mia happily called out as she skipped into the kitchen.

House stood from the table and placed the donut in the bag, along with the individual carton of milk he'd purchased. "Come on, you can eat in the car."

"Bye Mommy," Mia said, kissing her on the cheek.

"House, when will you be back?" Cuddy called out, as the diagnostician and his Smiagle walked out of the kitchen.

"Later."

* * *

"So, what's this about not going to your piano lesson?"

Mia kept her eyes focused on her donut as they drove to the mall, "I didn't wanna go."

"You mom pays a lot of money for your lessons."

"I was mad at you."

He sighed, "I'm sorry."

"That's okay."

* * *

They walked through the mall entrance, passing a jewelry shop as they walked towards the department store at the south end of the complex.

"Uncle House, I wanna look at the toys," Mia said, pointing towards the toy store across the way.

"On the way out."

"Okay," she said, as House pulled her by the hand to look at the jewelry. He looked at the vast array of sparkling jewels in the glass case, torn between trying to decide if he should go that far for Cuddy, or if he should settle on something less ostentatious.

Mia looked up at him, "These are pretty!"

He smiled, "These are expensive."

"Are you getting Shelby a necklace?"

"Nope."

"What are we getting for her?"

"A scarf."

She looked at him in confusion, "Oh."

* * *

"So, which one?" he asked, holding up three scarves, each light weight, elegant and perfectly suited for use by a cancer patient.

"Um," Mia pointed to her favorite, "The blue one."

"Okay," House put the other two back and walked towards the register to pay.

"Uncle House? Did you get anything for Uncle Jimmy?"

House raised an eyebrow, "No."

"You could get him a tie."

"I never get him a gift."

"Well, he's your friend, right?"

Growing more and more annoyed, he said, "Yes."

"Then you should get him something."

"Fine," he motioned towards the table of ties across the aisle, "Pick one out so we can go."

Ten minutes later, and after much scrutinizing over which tie was the best, Mia picked a handsome tie with shades of blue that matched the scarf almost perfectly.

The clerk smiled at the pair, and asked, "Would you like this gift wrapped?"

House looked at Mia, she nodded and he said, "Yes."

"If you take it over there," she pointed towards the far wall, "They've got a gift wrapping area set up. Just hand them the receipt when you get there."

Once the item was bagged, House and Mia walked to the gift wrap counter where they joined a long line of customers. House looked at the various wrapping paper options, trying to decide which one would be the least lame. The Hanukkah paper was out, Shelby wasn't Jewish. Santa, no. Floral, definitely no. When he stepped up to the counter, he turned to Mia to ask which one she liked best, only to find she was not there. Annoyed, he told the clerk to wrap the gifts with the blue and white paper and said he'd be back to pick it up.

Looking up and down the aisles nearest him, House searched for Mia, growing angrier with each passing second. She knew better than to wander off. He called her name several times, looking up and down the aisles of clothing, even looking beneath the long table skirts on the tie table. He then stood in one spot and made a full circle, searching for Cuddy's pride and joy.

That familiar pang of fear resonated deep within, and this time, he couldn't ignore it. His visual search of the surrounding area became increasingly more frantic as he looked for Mia. She was no where in sight and an overwhelming sense of panic, far worse than what he'd felt when she'd cut her hair, began to take hold.

"Smiagle!" He called.

Not seeing her, he stopped an older couple, asking, "Have you seen a five year old little girl. Brown hair, brown eyes? Pink shirt, blue jeans?"

The couple stared at him, shaking their heads as they walked as quickly away from him as possible. Realizing that his scruffy appearance might be incongruous with that of a five year old little girl, House tried what he thought would be a more acceptable approach.

He next asked a young couple pushing a stroller, "Have you seen my daughter? She's five, pink shirt, jeans, brown hair?"

Instantly the mother's eyes softened, "No, oh I'm so sorry. I'm sure you'll find her. Have you checked with the store? Sometimes kids are taken to the layaway department to wait for relatives."

House gave a curt nod and headed towards the rear of the store, limping as quickly as he could. On his way, he looked down the aisles and at the exit doors, hoping to catch just a glimpse of her. He passed the woman's section, and the purses, the luggage area, and finally approached the layaway's main counter.

Throwing all caution and sense of self preservation to the wind and disregarding his usual sense of control, House frantically blurted out, "My niece is missing. She's five, brown hair, is she here?"

The clerk shook her head, "I'm sorry sir, no."

"I was in the gift wrap area, turned around and she was gone. Do you have cameras, or someone who can look for her?" House chose that minute to play the cripple card and held up his cane, looking rather pathetically at the clerk, though admittedly the fear made his pathetic expression all too easy.

"I'll see what I can do." The clerk picked up the phone and called her supervisor.

House strummed his fingers on the counter top, impatiently hoping the cameras had picked up where she'd gone. Minutes passed and his anxiety peaked, to the point that he thought he might actually get physically ill. Unable to stand another minute doing absolutely nothing, he stormed out of the layaway area, calling out Mia's name.

He swallowed two vicodin as he passed the lingerie area and circled around towards the children's section. Fear began eating away at his conscience, trying not to allow thoughts of a creepy pedophile snatching his Smiagle from right under his nose. Breathing deeply to ward of a panic attack, and realizing that he'd actually lost nearly all control in the situation, House refocused his efforts. Meticulously, he looked up and down each aisle, doing a double take with each passing child.

His hand rested on his cell phone, poised to call in the authorities, Wilson, hell, the National Guard, and as a last resort, Cuddy. "Have you seen a five year old girl, brown hair, pink shirt?" he asked yet another clerk.

"You mean the one who was running in circles around the display with a little boy about ten minutes ago?"

House unconsciously ran his hand through his hair, "Where is she?"

"You should really keep a better eye on your granddaughter, especially during the holiday season. A lot of sickos are out there, you know."

"Where the hell is she?"

"Last I saw her, she was over there," the clerk pointed towards the kitchen supply area.

House ambled off, mumbling about how he was too young to be Mia's grandfather, followed closely by how he was going to kill Mia for wandering off once he finally found her. He reached the kitchen area and began to search the rows for Mia, becoming increasingly agitated upon not finding her. His mind faltered and disturbing thoughts of seeing her name on a televised missing-child newscast crossed his mind. He imagined Cuddy's face at the moment he told her that he'd lost Mia; he imagined and felt her pain at losing her sanity. His heart ached as he thought about losing another child, a child who fancied calling him Daddy. And then he began to wallow in self pity. He'd lost a child, he'd nearly lost Wilson, Amber was gone, various family members had passed or moved on, Stacy. He couldn't fathom losing Mia too. Not his precious, mischievous, funny, adorable, may-as-well-be-his-own Mia.

On the verge of calling Wilson to admit the most horrendous mistake of his life, House rounded the corner and there against the far wall, sitting in chair, was his Smiagle. His limp noticeably worse, House charged up the isle, coming to rest just in front of her chair. He towered over her as she sobbed into her hands and House fought the urge to pick her up and squeeze her with all his might.

"Mia," He said, with an indiscernible tone to his voice.

She looked up at him fearfully, "Uncle House?" she cried, extending the last bit of the word as a fresh wave of hiccupping tears took hold. "I got lost."

Releasing her pent up fear at being lost and at potentially upsetting her favorite uncle, Mia began to sob in earnest. She was ashamed, knowing what she'd done was wrong, simultaneously relieved that the one person she wanted to see more than anyone else had finally found her.

"Excuse me," a woman's voice rang out from behind House.

He turned to look at her with a curled lip, not wanting to deal with anyone but his Mia at that moment. She looked at him skeptically, sure that this limping, bearded man was not on the up and up, particularly given the near hysterical state of the child seated on the chair between them.

"Sweetie," she said, crouching down to Mia's level, "Is this man bothering you? Are you lost, honey?"

It was one straw too many, and the camel's back broke. Pushing past the woman, House lifted Mia and cradled her in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. Glaring at the woman, and in a tone that clearly indicated she would not get between them, he said, "She's. Mine."

Mia squeezed tight while the woman inched around House's shoulder, so that she was nearly eye to eye with the upset child. Mia glared at her in much the same way as House had before she turned her nose towards his neck, burying her face deep into his collar bone. The woman backed off as Mia had clearly seemed at ease, even relaxed, in the man's arms.

And when she was gone, House sat down in the chair and held Mia closer than he ever had before, unwilling to admit he was visibly shaking with relief. She was okay; she hadn't fallen prey to the vast abyss of the maniacal pedophile of his worst nightmare. He hadn't lost another child and unlike what his own father would have done, he hadn't yelled, criticized or belittled. She was in his arms for one reason, it was just right. She was safe. She was unharmed. She was home.

* * *

Cuddy looked up from her paperwork and smiled at Wilson as he entered her office. "You're coming, right?"

"Wouldn't miss dinner for the world. Shelby's really looking forward to it."

"So am I. Even Mr. Grump said he'd be there."

Wilson donned a concerned expression, "Has he said anything to you?"

"I've noticed it too, but no. He and Mia have clearly made up; she won't leave his side when he's here. She spent the night at his place last night after she begged to stay at his place."

"I know, I stopped by and had no idea she'd be there. Look," Wilson pulled out his cell phone with a devious grin. "They were both asleep on the couch with the Little Mermaid credits rolling on the television. He has no idea I took this photo."

Cuddy grinned broadly at the picture of her daughter, asleep with her arms wrapped around House; it wasn't her arms that stood out however, it was the way his head rested on top of hers, and specifically the smile that graced the corners of his mouth. "You have to send that picture to me."

"Absolutely. Just think of the blackmail opportunities," he chuckled. Just as quick as he was to smile, Wilson became melancholy equally as fast, "I don't know, it just seems like something's up. He just doesn't…" Wilson couldn't quite express it, so he pointed to the picture, "He doesn't do this."

"I'm not going to question it or try to figure it out. All I know is that Mia's been happier this week then I've ever seen her, and House has been more than tolerable."

Wilson's pager sounded, and he gave a quick wave as he headed out, "See you tonight."

"Bye Wilson."

* * *

Mia was jittery with anticipation as she flitted about the living room, organizing the handful of presents she had retrieved from her mother's bedroom. She set them on the coffee table just as the doorbell sounded.

"They're here! They're here!" she shrieked.

Cuddy removed her apron, wiped her hands on a towel and joined Mia at the front door, greeting Shelby and Wilson with a warm hug. Shelby was dressed in a long, dark green dress and a matching scarf wrapped around her scalp. The green set off her hazel eyes; eyes, which Cuddy had noticed shortly after meeting Shelby, that reminded her a great deal of House's. Not in color, but in shape and intensity. Wilson had on a festive sweater with green trim and carried both a bag full of presents and a vase full of flowers. Wilson smiled at Mia, handed the bag of presents to her, gave her a quick hug and then helped Shelby to get settled on the couch.

"Can I put the presents on the table, Mommy?"

"Go ahead, Mia."

Cuddy gave a quick peck on the cheek to both Wilson and Shelby and then promptly offered them something to drink, "I've got a zinfandel, chardonnay, merlot and champagne and cola, water, juice."

"Champagne please," Shelby said, smiling.

"Are you sure?" Wilson asked, "You haven't had any alcohol in months."

"I'm through with chemo and I plan on enjoying tonight, so bring on the champagne!"

Chuckling at her joyous spirit, and very glad to see it, Wilson agreed, "Champagne for me too then."

"Coming right up," Cuddy said, headed towards the kitchen.

Wilson appeared at the kitchen doorway, "House?"

"He's running a little late, should be here in about ten minutes."

Mia came running into the kitchen, "Mommy, Uncle House is here!" She squealed in delight and rushed out of the kitchen. Cuddy watched House pull into the driveway through the kitchen window. He opened his car door and before he had the chance to grab a bag from the backseat, Mia had jumped into his arms. Cuddy set the lasagna trays into the oven and returned to the living room in time to greet House as he walked in.

"Mia," she said, handing her a bag, "Set these in the living room, will you?"

"Okay," she said, taking the bag of presents. Looking at them, she asked, "What about the presents from you, Mommy?"

"Hanukkah doesn't start for four more nights, sweetie."

"Oh, okay."

"Take them into the living room please, we'll be there in just a minute."

Mia did as she was told, and Wilson had enough sense to wait in the living room with Shelby. Cuddy was grateful for the time alone with House.

"You came."

"Was there any doubt?"

She raised her eyebrows, "Yes."

He shrugged, "I know Mia got me a present. I never turn down a gift."

"So good to know you're here of your own free will," she teased. She looked at him, dressed in his usual button up shirt, jacket and jeans, but there was an air of contentedness about him. "You look good."

Slightly embarrassed, he placed his hand under her chin, "I know," he said, just before he kissed her.

Cuddy laughed as she smacked his arm, and the pair met the rest of the dinner party in the living room.

"Can we open gifts now?" Mia begged. "Please? Pretty please?"

"Yeah, can we? Can we mom, huh? Please?" House whined.

Cuddy looked over at Wilson, "Okay by you?"

"Only if House opens his last."

Fully expecting House to complain, Wilson was surprised when the youngest voice in the room rang out, "No! I want Uncle House to open my gift first!" The adults in the room chuckled at her sincerity as House gave Mia a thumbs-up sign.

Mia handed the gift to House who sat next to her on the couch. He made a show of shaking the package and teasingly pulled at the bow Cuddy had tied perfectly.

"Just open it!" Mia exclaimed impatiently.

He tore into the paper, reducing it to shreds and throwing the scraps on Mia amidst her laughter. Inside, he found an envelope containing two monster truck rally tickets.

"Great," he said, knowing the tickets were specifically to take Mia along. "Wilson and I will love the truck rally!"

"Uncle House! You're supposed to take me."

"Says who?"

"Me!"

"What do you know about monster trucks?"

"I know Jurassic Attack's gonna beat Gravedigger."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna bet?"

"House," Cuddy said warningly, "She's too young to bet."

"What do I get if I win?" Mia asked with a smirk.

House smiled furtively at Cuddy, "Flute lessons."

"House!" Cuddy exclaimed.

"Hey, Gravedigger'll win, don't worry," he turned to Mia, "And when _I_ win, your mom can make me dinner." Cuddy said nothing but raised an eyebrow in his direction.

Shelby handed a gift to Mia, "I think it's your turn to open one."

She happily accepted the gift and tore into it, giggling with delight as she opened a little girl's make-up set, complete with real nail polish and matching pink lipstick. "Thank you!" Mia said, giving Shelby a quick peck on the cheek.

"Now everybody open these!" Mia said, handing Wilson, Shelby and House a present.

Opening the boxes, House tried to hide his delight at the gift, feigning disinterest by rolling his eyes. Inside the gift box, there was a framed photo of Mia's school picture, complete with short cropped hair. Wilson and Shelby each found the same picture.

"Great, just what I need. A picture of the rugrat," he said sarcastically.

"Don't forget to open the envelopes too!" Mia was hopping with excitement.

Wilson managed to open his envelope first and smiled as he looked to Shelby, "I think we can definitely make this. What do you think?"

Shelby gave him a peck on the cheek, "Absolutely."

House rolled his eyes, "Get a room."

"Already did. Shelby's moving in the day after Christmas."

"That bet was rigged; you can't just wait one extra day to avoid paying me a hundred bucks."

"The bet was _if_ Shelby moved in by Christmas, nothing about moving in the day after. You owe me a hundred bucks."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that."

House finally opened his envelope, looked inside and found a ticket to Mia's piano recital, "I hope you don't suck, Smiagle."

"I don't suck," she said, smiling at him. She knew he was joking. "Maybe I'll paint my fingernails pink for the recital!"

House picked up two of the gifts and tossed them at Wilson and Shelby, "Here, Mia made me do it."

Chuckling, Wilson picked his up from the floor after failing to catch it, "Thanks House, so nice to know you give a damn."

"I try."

Shelby opened her gift, teared up and stood from the couch. She walked over to House, leaned down and wrapped her thin arms around his neck, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, "Thank you," she said. House nodded.

"A tie?" Wilson asked, "Mia must have picked this out, it's actually very nice."

"I did!" Mia said as she hugged her uncle.

"I have something for you, too," Shelby said, handing House an envelope.

He looked at her questioningly, not expecting to receive anything from her, nor from Wilson. He and Shelby locked eyes briefly, she nodded and smiled, and House turned his attention to the envelope, having no idea what it could be.

Unfolding the paper, his eyes scanned the words and he tucked in his bottom lip, deep in thought. He read each word methodically, rubbing his thumb across his forehead.

Wilson stood and picked Mia up, saying, "Cuddy, why don't we go check on dinner?" She looked at him a bit confused, but agreed and followed him into the kitchen.

"I just got the results today," Shelby said, unable to hide her happiness.

House read the paper once again before saying, "So, it's not all doom and gloom."

"No, it's not."

* * *

"What was in the envelope?" Cuddy asked as she checked the lasagna.

Trying to keep his emotions in check, Wilson happily said, "Shelby's in remission."

Cuddy stopped what she was doing, turned to look at Wilson and smiling broadly, she hugged him. "That is the best news I've heard in a very, very long time."

* * *

"Seems Miss. Mia has a few gifts to open," Wilson said, encouraging Mia to head back to the living room a short while later. She ran out to the small pile of presents and eagerly waited for the adults to settle in. Wilson had given Mia a toy chest filled to the brim with dress up clothing, both specifically made for children and a few 'real' items too, including a scrub top. She thanked Wilson with a hug and kiss, and then proceeded to lean into House's side, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

House reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope and she looked at him in confusion, wondering what trick he might have up his sleeve. He didn't usually give her gift certificates; Wilson had usually helped him to pick out a decent gift each year.

Mia struggled with the envelope and House ran his finger along the inside to open it for her. Very slowly, she pulled out a small picture and looked at him, then the picture and then at House again before she gasped in joy.

"Does this mean…? Really? For me?"

"What is it, Mia?" Cuddy asked, trying to get a glimpse of the picture.

"It's a piano!"

Cuddy looked at House in disbelief; never had he given Mia such an extravagant gift. His gifts were usually books, or games, the occasional doll but certainly nothing more than fifty dollars. "House, this is an upright, a real piano," she said.

"It'll be delivered on Monday."

"This is too much. I don't know what to say," Cuddy stammered.

"Do you expect her to get into Juilliard playing a cheap electric piano?"

Cuddy stared at him with a blank expression, not understanding where all of this was coming from, nor why he would give her such an expensive gift. She had no words as she studied him, trying to catch a glimpse of what might possibly be going through his mind.

"We need to talk about this, House," she said, shaking her head.

"No we don't."

Mia looked at her mom with worried eyes, "I don't get to keep the piano?"

"Of course you do," House blurted out before Cuddy could object.

She crawled up onto the couch and sitting on her knees, she hugged him with all her might. Ever wary of showing any kind of emotion, House simply patted her arm; he didn't outwardly show that he was equally as thrilled with Mia's reaction as she was with her gift.

* * *

After dinner and dessert, it was clear Shelby was tired from the evening's festivities, so Wilson and Shelby said their goodbyes and headed home. Cuddy finished cleaning the kitchen as House tucked Mia into bed and the two finally collapsed on the couch, both tired from the long day and late evening.

"So, Shelby's in remission," Cuddy said, trying to guage his mood.

"She is."

"You don't have to give Mia a piano."

"I want to."

"But why?"

House stood and walked back to the guest room, leaving Cuddy wondering if she'd said something to anger or offend him. He returned, carrying something behind his back.

"I haven't given you your gift yet."

She raised her eyebrows, surprised he'd gotten her something. "We don't exchange gifts."

"Just open it," he said, thrusting the blue and white wrapped shirt box into her hand. He watched as she looked at the gift in amazement, a look which completely amused him.

She looked up into his eyes, smiling a somewhat dazed smile, wondering what had gotten into him. She then stood, walked over to the corner and withdrew a small box hidden behind the recliner and handed it to him with a smirk.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Just a little something I thought you might like."

"Open yours," he said.

"You first."

Angling his head to the side, he wondered what she would think he'd like. A record perhaps, some sort of monster truck paraphernalia, a gift certificate wrapped in a larger box as a little joke. He pulled the paper away and opened the box, revealing a lacy baby doll and g-string set. His mouth dropped open and he looked up at her with a naughty grin.

Placing the two items on his chest he said, "I don't think these will fit."

She laughed out loud, "Too bad, I guess I'll have to return them."

"Well, they'd probably fit you just fine."

"Probably."

There was no denying the spark in his eyes, "Open yours."

Cuddy looked at the shirt box in front of her and unwrapped it slowly, imagining a second piece of lingerie or a teddy. Pulling the box lid away, and folding the tissue paper back, Cuddy looked at the contents in complete shock. Her hand instantly covered her mouth and clouding her vision, tears welled up in her eyes.

Pulling out the packet of paper, she asked, "This is why you bought her the piano?" He nodded. Struggling to keep her voice from faltering, she said, "Are you sure about this? Are you absolutely certain?"

Without any hint of sarcasm, snark or smirk, he replied, "I _want_ to adopt Mia."

Placing the signed and notarized documents on the coffee table, Cuddy placed her hands on either side of his face, tears now flowing freely down hers, and she kissed him.

Pulling back to look him in the eye, she asked, "No matter what? Even if this," she waved indicating the two of them, "Doesn't work out?"

He nodded, "No matter what."

"A child is forever, you can't just change your mind when you feel like it."

"I won't change my mind."

"Why? Why now?"

House stared at the far wall, glanced at the g-string which sat atop the box it came in and debated whether or no to tell her such a guarded secret. Finally, he quietly said, "Because I'm not my father."

Her heart melted at his honestly, "I could have told you that." She kissed him again before asking, "When should we tell her?"

House shook his head forcefully, "No. I don't want her to know. Not yet. I will legally adopt her, but it will be in name only."

"If that's what you want."

"It is. She's still _your_ daughter. I'm just backup."

Cuddy smiled warmly as she squeezed his hand, "You've never just been backup, House. She's always been ours."

Fin.


End file.
